And There It Is
by Alice Deathwalker
Summary: Stiles wants Derek. Derek seems to want Stiles, what seems so difficult? Oh yeah, Derek is a new alpha with some serious issues.
1. Chapter 1

And There It Is

Note: This is a mushy, gushy, deep attempt at writing a fanfic, enjoy and please comment!

**Chapter 1 **

The Stilinksi house was dark, except for a single light shining from the kitchen downstairs. The quiet was interrupted by a peal of muffled laughter that echoed into the quiet neighborhood outside.

Stiles scrambled up the stairs trying to stifle his laughter, his hands covered in pasta sauce. As his right foot landed on the last stair, his left shoe was snatched off his foot and flung down the stairwell like a pebble tossed into a well, the sound of it clattering below echoing in the quiet house. He slammed his bedroom door shut and grinned widely when a solid body slammed against his door, the immediate crunch of wood causing the door frame to shudder.

Thinking quickly, he crawled under his bed and stilled his movements oblivious to the fact that he had smeared pasta sauce across the floor boards as he did so. A moment later the door swung open, slamming against his bedroom wall. He peered awkwardly from under the bed as a pair of heavy feet entered the room and suddenly disappeared as quickly as they had materialized.

He was pulled out from under the bed with a yell.

Stiles was tossed onto the bed in one swift motion leaving him breathless as Derek appeared above him, a large puddle of pasta sauce still wet and dripping from his t-shirt. Stiles smiled back at the wolf man biting back a laugh.

So much for homemade pasta sauce.

Derek took off his shirt in one swift motion, revealing his steel cut abs and glorious chest. Goodbye virginity he thought, hello sexual discovery. Derek tossed the other shoe into a corner and pulled off Stile's t-shirt, the seams ripping in urgency.

"Aw man, that was one of my favorite shirts." Stiles whined as Derek tossed the shirt above the large armoire in the corner of the room.

"It's dirty." Derek offered.

"You're dirty" Stiles shot back without thinking.

Derek let out a low, feral snarl that caused the tiny hairs on Stiles' neck to stand on end.

Derek was always so rough. Stiles really didn't mind. He took Derek slamming him onto a bed rather than against a wall as a vast improvement in their relationship. Not much of a relationship, but one none the less. Derek had even stopped telling Stiles that he would rip out his throat, or threatening injury upon him for getting in the way. Progress, that's what it was.

And finally giving it up after all this time was superb. Goodbye virginity, hello sex bomb Stiles.

He stared as Derek's pupils expanded, the alpha's arousal humming through his body. God, the man put male models to shame. Stiles wondered if people found it strange that someone like Derek Hale would be interested in someone like him. Sure people, mostly his mom, would say he had the most beautiful honey brown eyes in the whole county, but apart from that he really wasn't much of a catch. He had a mouth and opinion on him though, and that got him into more trouble than neither he nor his father had bargained for. It has also led him to Derek _freaking_ Hale. The poster boy for lust fueled fantasies; hell he could make girls swoon and guys cringe in jealousy just by walking into a room. Derek was bad boy Ken complete with leather jacket, brooding demeanor, and midnight black Camaro to boot.

And now Stiles would have a firsthand experience of his abilities.

"Stiles" Derek growled loudly. "You're starting to smell so…" Stiles shuddered as he felt Derek shifting, trying to stop himself from letting his wolf out. Their previous erotic fumblings had ended with Derek almost shifting and having to run out in a hurry as the wolf would run on instinct, and Derek needed to be in control at all times, especially when taking a certain teenage boy's virginity.

"Sorry I'll stop" Stiles murmured with no intent on slowing his body's pheromone production.

He looked up at two red irises and smiled playfully at the wolf man. He gave the alpha a soft kiss, feeling the sharp fangs just underneath the stubbled skin waiting to claim him.

He still couldn't believe that someone like Derek hale would want him though. Derek usually looked like he wanted to destroy something the first few months after their introduction, a ying to the others yang so much so, that while they were so different they seemed to meld together, some sort of magnetic pull that even Scott with his rudimentary sensory development was able to pick up on. He would often watch the pair suspiciously and make faces when Stiles would give off these sweet smelling pheromones whenever Derek was near. Derek on the other hand had a handle on his feelings, long since past being a nervous and hormone riddled teenager, and was usually able to mask his arousal, though he too would have to leave their company after extended periods of time, his wolf reacting to an overload of Stiles' scent nearby.

And when Stiles was able to assist the pack in research and other tactical observations, Derek was glad. Glad and frustrated. He could watch the little bastard and keep tabs on him, not like he was stalking, just keeping the human out of trouble and well, mostly away from the advances and beds of other men.

It's not like Derek would ask him to marry him or anything, he was alpha after all, Stiles knew that. Stiles just wanted Derek to take his V card. He knew that once he got that taken care of he would be way less awkward with both sexes and be more grown up and stuff.

He watched as Derek made quick work of his own clothes, running on instinct and arousal. He stopped and admired the wolf man's gorgeous torso, the muscular chest and beautiful six packed stomach. Man, of all the bad things that happened, it was like the universe was giving Stiles something good to make up for all of it.

Even though the two butted heads, Stiles couldn't imagine his life without the alpha. He was crude, handsome, and had a lame sense of humor, but they just _gelled_. Sure the tension between them was fun and led to a lot of inappropriate gawking, but Stiles liked having him around. Even though Derek was faced with deadly scenarios at every corner, the pack seemed to handle it well and got stronger in the process.

While Stiles knew that Derek was always battling for his life and the survival of his pack, he couldn't imagine losing the alpha; he couldn't imagine losing anyone close to him ever again. That probably explained why he worked so hard to support the pack, making sure he did everything he could to keep his friends safe and alive.

"Hey."

He looked up at Derek's eyes, glowing with concern.

"Hey." Stiles repeated.

"Are you alright?" Derek breathed, noticing the change in Stiles' scent.

Stiles nodded, he continued to look into Derek's eyes.

"You're so brave." Stiles whispered, trying to sound awestruck while burying the feelings of worry or anxiety he was feeling.

Derek bored into Stiles as if reading his very soul.

Derek slowly thumbed away the tears that had pooled dangerously at the edges of Stiles' eyes, the rough, warm hands causing him to sigh in contentment. The alpha cradled Stiles' head in his hands, framing the beautiful doe eyes and those expressive lips that seemed to babble on forever without a filter.

"It can get emotional the first time." Derek stated, punctuating the silence.

What the hell? Stiles _was not_ a lovesick loser. He was a horny teenager who needed to get off. With his sort of boyfriend. Did Derek sense something underneath? He was an alpha werewolf but last time Stiles checked, they couldn't read minds.

Derek looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight across the bed. Stiles didn't need to read minds to know that the wolf was also feeing awkward. Derek tapped Stiles' chin coaxing the teen to look into his eyes, the alpha laid next to him and slowly pulled him into his embrace, spooning him with his nose against Stiles jugular, breathing in Stiles scent, straight from the pulse point.

Stiles felt his spine tingling against the soft silky hair on his paramour's chest and abdomen, the muscles feeling like hard reinforcements to the thousands of nerve endings connected within the fragile support system in his back. He sighed softly, causing two warm arms to envelope him in a protective embrace. He wouldn't even be able to keep the sandman away even if he tried.

Stiles woke to find himself still in Derek's arms, clutched against the older man's body as if Stiles would run away from the big bad wolf in the night. No way. There's no way he could keep away from Derek, even if he tried. Hell just being so close to the alpha was enough for Stiles to create endless fantasies and let his imagination run wild. Wrapped up in Derek's arms though, he realized that he wasn't prepared for what he was starting to feel for the man. And that made the embrace even more powerful and scary. He felt same, warm, and protected. This wasn't just about sex anymore.

He looked down to see the hulking wolf man laid against his chest rumbling like a small truck. His permanent scowl curiously absent, the man looked sweet, even innocent. Stiles absent mindedly ran a hand through his man's hair. He was Derek's now wasn't he in some sort of weird way? He tried to push the thought of it out of his mind and continued to run his hand through the handsome man's hair causing him to push back unconsciously. Stiles smiled.

"Just a big puppy aren't you?" he whispered to himself.

Stiles felt Derek's hands snake around him and pull him down so they were face to face.

"What are you doing?"

"Just you know." Stiles kept stroking, focusing his eyes on Derek's forehead with a soft smile on his face. He loved it when his mom used to stroke his hair when he was tired and grumpy, her gentle touch helping him fall asleep.

Stiles felt Derek's eyes on him, watching him intently, though the alpha leaned heavily into his touch trying to hold back the deep rumblings that were igniting in his chest. Stiles couldn't help grin even wider.

He was slowly turned onto his back as the wolf hunk towered above him. Stiles stopped his gesticulations and placed his hands by his sides with his small content smile. He could be like this forever; as the satisfied mate of a handsome alpha. A guy could dream, couldn't he?

"Stiles look at me."

Stiles looked into Derek's eyes, his body illuminated by whatever moonlight shone through the open curtains of his room.

Derek bored into him again, but there was something else there.

"Derek" Stiles whispered

Derek lowered his lips onto Stiles, slowly pushing his tongue into his mouth. God the alpha knew how to kiss, did the teach this in some sort of werewolf academy? Because he would definitely need to sign up, learn a few things about werewolves and alphas, and how to get along with them and keep them satisfied and not wanting to rip things and people apart. 'How to Keep an Alpha Happy 101' would be a great crash course to enroll in.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Derek's kisses turned passionate, and demanding. His pushed Stiles legs apart and lowered himself over his body covering him in a blanket of muscles and sinewy flesh. Stiles found his hands softly ghosting over the hard muscles in Derek's back, memorizing the power each one kept and the desire that coursed through every fiber of Derek's being.

Stiles felt Derek's appendage fill out in tandem with his own arousal and he could only groan wantonly into Derek's mouth. Stiles felt his body arching off the bed as Derek started to rise. He would be filled from both ends soon and he wouldn't mind at all. Hell he wanted it, no needed it. It would just make his life complete. Once and for all. Derek's pheromones were strong and breathing them in was like getting high off the sexiest drug possible. Hell he could bottle it and sell it on the black market and make a killing. Or just sell it legitimately at a storefront and the secret musk would indeed be that of Derek. His wolf. The one that belonged to him, and him alone. A guy could dream, right?

Stiles felt two long, dexterous fingers rubbing his entrance and slowly dipping inside him.

"Stiles."

Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek, his lips pink and puffy from kissing,

"Do you want to wait?" he said, his voice deep and low, filled with the desire to mate, testosterone pumping through his veins.

"What. No! Derek."

"I'm going to die a virgin. I knew it." Stiles muttered under his breath.

Derek was nervous again, Stiles could feel it. He watched as the wolf contemplated whether to continue on with the main event, slowly making love to Stiles till he could only scream Derek's name into the night as the alpha claimed him over and over again. Stiles couldn't read him, but he knew that the more time Derek sat thinking and the less time he spent grinding against him meant his chances of losing his virginity were growing slimmer by the second.

Derek slowly picked himself up from the bed and began putting his clothes back on, grimacing as he placed his still aroused appendage into his pants. Stiles watched in fascination at the way it looked. That was going to go inside him? Where would it all go? He shuddered thinking about how he would feel with Derek inside, connecting them in a sacred bond.

"Wait. Why. I don't want to wait!" Stiles snapped out of his stupor.

"I need to talk to your dad." The Alpha said quietly.

"Wow hold on. Talk to my dad? About what?"

Things came together quickly and Stiles practically jumped out of bed.

"You cannot talk to him. He doesn't know!" Stiles stammered though a little voice in his head knew that his dad had already figured it out but was waiting for him to man up and tell him.

"It's that or nothing. "

This is not twilight!

"Urgh no fair!" Stiles moaned, since when did Derek Hale have attacks of conscience? Stiles' didn't need the man to be all noble and forthright now, hell he wanted the wolf man at his dirtiest, kinkiest, toe curling worst.

Stile was still in high school, what would Derek say to his dad? Ask the sheriff to take Stiles off his hands with two mules and a wagon? Would the two shack up in the old hale compound with Scott, Lydia, and Jackson traipsing through whenever they pleased? Would they spend nights together reading and watching movies, Stiles cuddled up against Derek's side against the cold as the man was surely part furnace? Would they have babies and raise them so they would abide by pack rules and were-law? Would his dad say yes? God please say yes. Stile would pout for eternity if it didn't happen.

Stiles was so nervous as the thoughts simultaneously rushed through his head like scenes from some sort of romantic comedy drama amalgam.

"Don't go. We can cuddle. Cuddling is good for you; it was proven in some study." Stiles babbled hoping the Adonis would stay.

Derek was fully dressed and opening the window.

He turned to Stiles, something clearly on his mind. Instead of speaking, the wolf man jumped out into the night and was gone.

"Great. Love you too." Stiles said into thin air.

"Love you too?" He repeated to himself as he curled up inside the blankets.

Love you too? Really?

God talk about being needy.

TO BE CONTINUED….


	2. Chapter 2

CH 2

Sorry for the delay, enjoy!

Derek had made up his mind. He was ready, but he wanted more. This time it had to be more. No more running. No more hiding. He needed to claim his mate's virginity and do it right. If there was only one thing he did right, it would be that. Stiles was _not_ Kate Argent. He roared into the night delving deeper into the woods. That old wound was taking forever to heal. He ran until he came to the river. His river.

He took his clothes off and swam into its currents, letting the water form a swirling cocoon around him.

Back in his bedroom, Stiles could still feel Derek all over him. It's as if everything around him had stayed the same and he had changed somehow. Hell he could still taste Derek on his lips, which may be the reason why he was so stoic, some sort of weird DNA recombination that was the result of several nightly failed copulations forcing silence into him.

A knock at his door stirred him from his thoughts.

"Hey, I heard a noise, anything wrong?" His dad asked, peeking in.

Stiles sighed.

"Dad."

"Yeah." The Sherriff soothed, sitting on Stiles bed instinctively knowing his son needed a one-on-one.

"So say there's this situation."

The Sherriff cocked his eyebrow in a way that reminded Stiles of Derek.

"You didn't do something illegal did you?"

"No dad. It's just." Stiles bit his bottom lip.

"Where you like someone. Like really like them. But they have issues." Stiles continued.

"Ok." The Sherriff acquiesced trying to follow his son's ramblings.

"Well. How do you. Ya know?"

"Ask them if they like you too?" The sheriff ventured.

"Yeah. Well I mean. What if they're you know, out of your league?"

The Sheriff tried not to smile. His son was an adorable dork.

"You just got to put yourself out there son. Trust me. It's the most direct way that gets you noticed. "

Stiles looked at the Sherriff like he was nuts.

"Ah, nevermind. I'll just ask Scott."

"Stiles." The sheriff insisted, rather exasperated.

Stiles thought for a moment.

"So, like a text?"

"No. No texting. Just say hi, I think you're really pretty."

Stiles bit his lower lip to hide the smirk forming on his lips. He imagined the scene.

Hi Derek, I know we like have furious make out sessions and have been trying to get each other naked and you scare the hell out of me sometimes, but I like you and I think you're pretty…

But man, was the wolf hunk pretty. Like _really_ pretty. A stunner who made onlookers stop and stare whenever he entered a room, the dark smoldering thing he had going on adding to his sexy mystique.

He noticed his dad staring at him with an inquiring look on his face.

"Did you take your medication today Stiles?" The Sherriff inquired.

"What. Yeah. Yes" Stiles looked up smiling.

"Thanks Dad."

The Sherriff stared at his son pensively, wondering how much of the conversation had actually stuck.

"Anytime kiddo." He stated rising.

"Now go to sleep its late."

Stiles listened to his dad's footsteps disappear down the corridor.

A week passed without any news from Mr. Alpha, which gave Stiles enough time to prepare himself.

So yeah. Here goes nothing.

As his jeep approached the old, creepy Hale house Stiles noticed several other cars parked alongside the midnight Camaro belonging to a certain Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome. His stomach instantly filled with butterflies.

Hi Derek, I know we've been hanging out a lot lately, and I want to tell you that you're pretty.

No wait. I want to say that I like you. I like you a lot.

"That I like you?" Stiles cringed, was there a better way to say it?

But he didn't have time to think as he approached the front door.

Stiles knocked on the door which was opened promptly by Jackson, who gave him a quick nod as a hello. He found the pack sitting in the living room of the dilapidated house, Derek speaking quietly about something important. When Derek's eyes met his, Stiles felt his legs turn to jelly, and he just nodded hi to everyone and took a seat as far away from the alpha as possible. Derek kept talking, not particularly looking in his direction.

The sound of Derek's voice silenced itself as the group disbanded. Stiles took to his feet to follow Derek as he began ascending the stairs silently.

He found Derek upstairs rummaging through his room looking for something.

"Hey there." Stiles said quietly.

Derek turned.

"Why are you up here Stiles?"

"Um so. I just wanted to talk about our situation."

Derek gave him a stare then returned to what he was doing.

"You're almost near graduation." Derek noted casually.

Stiles felt his heart skip a beat. Was that an acknowledgement that Derek didn't see him as a child anymore?

"Yeah."

"You're going to college soon." Derek grimaced, pulling out an old box and rummaging through it.

" ?" Stiles responded lost.

"You will be leaving Beacon Hills." Derek spelled out his words like he was talking to a child.

"I'm not leaving," Stiles exclaimed loudly.

Derek bared his fangs angrily.

"Don't be stupid. We are not talking about this."

"Talking about what? You need me."

Derek looked at him pensively.

"You won't have time to work with us when you start school. We need to be able to function without you."

Stiles felt like Derek had kicked him in the stomach.

Without you. Why would we want someone as weak and human as you Stiles? You're just weak.

"Please I'm strong. I'll be strong. Derek." Stiles whispered against the door.

"This is pack business Stiles. We have to do things that don't involve you."

"You mean you _won't_ involve me."

Derek cracked his knuckles, looking irritated.

"You are no longer needed Stiles."

Stiles was so mad he wanted to break something.

"I hate you sometimes." Stiles seethed, though he realized how childish he sounded.

"That's fine. Now go." Derek nodded, treating him just the way he felt. The wolf man stood and headed downstairs.

Stiles crumpled against the door.

I'm strong.

I am.

Stiles found himself near tears.

So much for I like you.

As Derek ventured downstairs he felt sick to his stomach. All he wanted to do was hold Stiles in his arms. But it wasn't worth it. Stiles deserved more. Stiles deserved to be safe.

"Take him home and make sure he stays there" Derek snarled pointing at Jackson.

Allison and Scott stared after Stiles sadly as he was escorted to his jeep.

"Get over it Stiles, we'll always be friends alright?" Jackson placated quietly once the two were outside.

As soon as Stiles was gone Scott spoke up.

"You didn't have to be such a jerkwad about it Derek."

"Shut up McCall." Derek growled lunging towards the back door.

"Where are you going?" Jackson inquired.

"I'll see you all here next week. Now leave." Derek spoke, his voice like distant thunder.

And there it was. The moment when the alpha had thrown him away and Stiles had backed up and walked in the other direction. He was over it. Well that's what he told himself until he finally started to believe it.

That took a long time.

In the isolated Hale house, Derek was having his own attack of conscience. Of course he wanted to nail Stiles, he was pretty sure he was far past his depths already with the teen but he couldn't risk putting anyone he cared about or loved in danger. Because if he really thought about it, he knew that he yearned for the talkative little smart ass more than he had ever yearned for anyone before. He couldn't, wouldn't, bring him in harm's way. It would be irresponsible.

Besides, he admired Stiles a lot. From a far he noticed how happy and full of life and possibility the teenager's spirit appeared. He too had lost someone near and dear to him, yet he was able to smile and laugh with the best of them. On the other hand, the walls Derek had put up were hardened by years of bitterness and anger, making sure no one could ever break them down and hurt him again.

Derek had indeed talked to Sherriff Stilinksi, but the already awkward conversation had gone awry when the Sherriff mentioned that Stiles had been accepted into a prestigious scholarship program in computer science. Damn it. Derek could never catch a break. So he dealt with it. One thing he valued more than anything was family. Having Stiles stay would mean his father would be unhappy. Unhappy families were the worst families.

He realized asking Stiles to stay would be selfish. Just because he was tied to his pack didn't mean he would let Stiles lose that kind of opportunity. The kid was incredibly intelligent. He would waste away in a tiny place like Beacon Hills. Or even worse be harmed in a dangerous place like Beacon Hills. And with that kind of logic, he made up his mind to let go of Stiles Stilinksi.

Stiles entered the first day of university determined to start a fresh. A new. Allison had gotten into a school in the east coast just like he had but he was determined to make the scholarship work to his advantage. No loans meant more money in his pockets. A new school meant new friends and new possibilities.

He wasn't going to lie; it was hard feeling like he could see Derek everywhere. Every time a tall, dark haired guy walked through the halls he imagined it was him. Though his mind told him to be open, his heart wanted him to curl up in a little ball somewhere and remember the alpha's warmth and protection.

College was overwhelming and busy. He met new friends, grew out of his awkwardness for the most part, and in his Introduction to Software Engineering class he fell in love for the second time.

Mark Davis looked like a rugged, outdoorsy guy but in reality he was a junior computer programmer that moonlighted as a TA for the class as a favor to the professor who was overseeing his doctoral dissertation. When he introduced himself to the class, Stiles realized the TA was in such great shape because he did everything outdoors. Who would have thought, a computer geek who liked hiking? Every girl in class, and Stiles was sure several guys were secretly swooning over the handsome TA from the word go. Stiles vowed that he wouldn't fall for the tall, dark, and handsome type again so he kept uncharacteristically quiet during discussion sessions and asked questions only when he was completely stuck on a problem. Mark observed him, very much like Derek had and it made him feel uncomfortable all over again. Stiles would pretend not to look, but he couldn't help but notice Mark when he was answering questions and how he looked from behind as he wrote problems on the board. He had the same raven colored hair, striking eyes, and constant stubble that outlined his strong jaw. Stiles noticed his tattooed arms that one girl had described as 'sleeves' snaking down in intricate designs. He was tall and imposing but seemed gentle and kind which made his appeal even more enticing. Stiles noticed that when he laughed, Mark's eyes twinkled. Stiles felt butterflies in his stomach once again.

However, Stiles was determined to enjoy college and not get caught up in some sort of pseudo relationship again. Teacher's aide and student romances was still taboo and he was over the initial pleasures of carrying on a secret affair. He stuck it through and enjoyed his classes and going to parties with his friends. Scott and Allison both visited, and Stiles loved showing them around. When it came time to reminisce, details about Derek were painfully absent.

"So how is he?" Stiles finally asked after his second latte. His mind continuing the question with 'is he seeing anyone?' but his filter stopping him from sounding completely pathetic.

Allison looked over at Scott who finally muttered.

"He's fine."

Stiles nodded.

"So are you dating anyone?" Allison offered trying to change the subject, a lethargic employee beginning to mop the floor and putting up a closed sign behind her.

Stiles shook his head and couldn't help but notice the pitiful looks he received.

"Just enjoying my life here. Stiles Stilinksi is a free man." He stated with a smile.

When Scott and Allison left he began to miss home even more.

In his dorm room he made a call to his dad to say hi and spent two hours talking. It felt like home.

After hanging up and feeling immensely better, he started a text with Derek's name in the recipient line. He typed out a polite 'how are you' but canceled it before he felt foolish enough to send it.

The week before finals was hectic and Stiles was so overloaded that he had gotten behind in his software engineering class. He finished the study guide and was proud of himself for retaining so much information after midterms, yet he was stuck on three questions that just wouldn't work themselves out. He pulled out the class syllabus and looked at the professor's office hours. Damn, at 7pm it was too late to see him when his office hours had ended at 6:00. He looked at Mark's office hours which ended at 7:30.

As he walked into Mark's rather small but impressive office complete with a whiteboard covered in complicated algorithms, he was surprised to see that no one else was there getting last minute help. Not good.

"Hi Stiles" Mark stated with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"Hey Mark."

"I was wondering when you would come and see me." The TA spoke, his deep voice filling the room.

What. Stiles pushed the innuendo implicating thoughts out of his head as quickly as they formed.

"Yeah you know. Been busy and stuff." Stiles stated casually.

"How can I help you?" Mark gestured to a chair.

By letting me make out with you for a few minutes and then taking you back to my dorm for some more physical extracurricular activities? Because his roommate was starting to think Stiles was a legitimate member of the abstinence movement.

"I just don't know how to complete the last three problems on the study guide."

"Let me see what you have." Mark offered.

He bent over Stiles shoulder as Stiles explained his thought process, very reminiscent of another…Stiles picked up on Mark's cologne, it was woody and earthy with a sharp edge to it. It smelled really good.

"Here's your issue." Mark stated triumphantly.

"You're not using the V– model properly. You're relying on the Spiral model which leaves you with left overs." Mark continued drawing circles around the faulty solution.

Stiles looked up like the man told him how to cure cancer. That would incidentally, make him the most amazing man in the world.

"I can't believe I missed that."

"Well maybe less daydreaming in discussion would help." Mark smirked.

"I do not daydream in discussion." Stiles said indignantly making Mark smile widely.

"You smell really good." Stiles blurted out, his motor mouth restarting with a kick. Not good and highly inappropriate.

"Oh. Thanks."

"Did your girlfriend buy it for you?" Stiles cringed as the words fell out of his mouth.

Mark stared at him for a moment.

"No."

Stiles hesitated, worried. Just as he was thinking against it…

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Sorry." Stiles grimaced wanting to clamp a hand over his mouth and exit the office in a hurry.

Mark laughed.

"It's called Earth Pine."

"Huh?" Stiles was brought back to reality with the word pine.

"The cologne is called Earth Pine. It's created by a small perfumery out in the bay area. "

"Oh. You're from California?"

"No. Washington, but you know, traveling."

And there it was. The entryway into friendly conversation.

So Stiles talked, and talked, and talked, giving Mark enough time to ask and answer as well. Stiles got lost in Mark's twinkle as they conversed, making up for lost time during discussion. Stiles found himself running out of steam at around 9pm and was glad when a loud beep from his phone informed him of a incoming text message.

Stiles smiled, it felt good to talk to someone new. He found out that Mark was the oldest of three boys, was single, and loved hiking and nature. Stiles told him that he'd never been on a hike but loved walking for some reason since he did a lot of it back home. Mark offered to take him the next time he went to which Stiles casually agreed to. Totally casual, total cool.

Stiles finished finals and felt elated knowing that he had aced the Intro to Software Engineering exam giving a knowing smirk to Mark as he handed him his test paper with a casual.

"Earth Pine smells good in the morning," which made Mark laugh loudly.

Stiles went back home for the winter break and loved relaxing at home. He started cooking when he realized that his dad had started living off of fast food and offerings from neighbors, making it his mission to stock the fridge up with edibles that weren't delivered in Styrofoam containers.

He hung out with Scott and Allison and didn't even comment on the very engagement like promise ring on Allison's finger. They invited him to hang out at the Hale house but Stiles declined, wanting to keep his mental state normalized and not back into pining territory.

He should not be named never made an appearance.

Before he knew it he was back at school.

In the third week of classes, he received an email from Mark. It read: 'Hey Stiles, heading out a few hours north for a day hike. Want to join?'

Yeah. Stiles would definitely like to join.

So he wrote back oh so casually: 'Hey Mark, glad you've been thinking about me over the winter break. Can't wait to go for my first hike. I'm stoked.'

Stiles hit the send button before he had proofread the email and had to hold the power button on his laptop to stop the email from traversing through the World Wide Web into Mark's inbox.

"Glad you've been thinking about me? Are you serious?!" Stiles moaned.

When he restarted and checked his sent folder, he sighed seeing the email there. Oh well, he had done his best.

That night when he checked his email, Stiles found an email from Mark.

It read: 'Great! I see you haven't lost your sense of humor. See you Saturday. Bring plenty of fluids.'

Stiles twirled in his computer chair. Why was it so easy? No push and pull, no obligations to the pack or exclusive laws, just two people hanging out with the possible chance of a casual make out session. Well maybe.

A hawk circled over head releasing a dramatic screech which Stiles took as the call of the bird indicating to its woodland friends that it had found food. He watched Mark's amazing ass traverse a slope of gravel.

"You do this for fun?" Stiles huffed exasperatedly feeling his calves burning.

Mark turned smiling.

"Aw come on, it's only been 20 minutes."

20 minutes of torture more like it.

'We sit in chairs all day, it's important to include physical activity in our lifestyles" Mark elaborated later as the two sat under a large tree.

"You'll be in major trouble by the time you're in your 40s if you don't." He pointed out.

Stiles nodded.

"Hadn't thought of that." He acquiesced.

"Thanks for coming." Mark ventured quietly.

"Are you kidding me? Thanks for letting me tag along. It's amazing out here."

Stiles looked at the panorama of greenery against the reddish brown rock formations.

"You're welcome." Mark replied warmly, the words staying in the air.

As the sunset the two made their way back to Mark's truck and he drove them to a small diner in the middle of nowhere.

"You haven't had a cheeseburger until you've tried one here." Mark claimed as they were seated at their booth.

"Holy. This is. I'm speechless." Stiles muttered after taking the first bite, his eyes wide trying to communicate his surprise.

There was only one other place that had burgers that even came close to this and he and Scott were regular patrons at Betsy's.

"Well glad something has that affect on you." Mark observed.

"Hey!" Stiles responded feigning hurt. He wondered when they had reached that level of comfort.

Mark laughed.

He reached out and wiped away a stray spot of ketchup from the corner of Stiles mouth and licked it off his fingers quickly.

Stiles blushed.

Luckily the lighting was rather dim so Mark couldn't see.

When had they reached that level of familiarity?

It meant one thing. Flirting had commenced.

Wow.

It was way too easy, no angst, no pining or over thinking.

When Mark's truck pulled up to Stiles' apartment, Stiles started to get nervous.

"So this is me." Stiles pointed to the second window of a large apartment complex.

"I had a really great time Stiles." Max stated quietly.

"I did too." Stiles whispered.

Mark leaned in and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. Stiles melted.

"Mark." Stiles whispered, his eyes closed.

Mark returned with a longer kiss.

"Can I take you out Stiles?" Mark asked earnestly.

Stiles nodded.

And there it was. Stile's first official date.

To the movies and then dinner it was, followed by a pretty awesome make out session which Stiles had to end because it was rapidly becoming one of those types of dates.

But things went well and even though they may have been breaking some rule about teaching assistants dating students, they starting seeing each other more and more until Stiles could say, hey, I've got a boyfriend.

When Stiles told Scott, his best friend was supportive and happy.

Things were simple with Mark and his presence in Stiles' life meant that the next three years passed by in a flash. In his senior year, Stiles was interning at one of the largest software firms and looking forward to graduation and moving in with his beau.

Mark was awesome, like best boyfriend of the decade awesome. He would let Stiles talk and revert back to his motor mouth tendencies with a smile on his face. He was great in bed and Stiles was finally able to lose that pesky V card once and for all. And he enjoyed the sex. A lot. There were a few things that weren't optimal but Stiles figured, no relationship was perfect. Not at all. They weren't a big deal Stiles told himself.

For one, Mark never wanted to meet Stiles' dad or visit Beacon Hills to see his home town and Mark barely ever mentioned his own family. Stiles finally found out that Mark had been adopted by his aunt and uncle while looking for a missing screw that had fallen out of his alarm clock, which had gotten one too many slams on the snooze button. The adoption certificate that was tucked into Mark's important documents file that Stiles was totally not snooping into made him aw out loud. Why couldn't Mark tell him? He felt the first pang of insecurity. Why would Mark hide from him?

Stiles was ok with that. He wasn't as ok with Mark not telling him, but never the less the rest of his relationship was good. One thing he didn't really like was that Mark didn't like to cuddle. Ok, not very manly but still, who doesn't like to cuddle? Stiles thought to himself. It would always be sex, shower, eat for Mark and Stiles often felt awkward lying against him on the come down knowing Mark wouldn't reciprocate.

And eventually the small things began to aggregate and build until Mark received a text on one of their movie night. Stiles didn't like to pry but those little things became a big thing when he saw the text.

'Are you stilsl there?'

Stiles didn't know what to think, or want to think what it meant.

When Mark returned and swung an arm around him, Stiles couldn't help but feel grossed out.

Stiles was speechless again and barely commented on the movie they were watching. Mark didn't even notice his reticence.

As the last few months dragged on before the implosion of Stark, Mark became less and less available and more and more distant when they did hang out. Stiles later learned these as the most obvious signs of cheating. Stiles finally asked Mark after months of waiting.

"Is there someone else?"

They were at their favorite Italian restaurant celebrating their third anniversary none the less. Conversation had been light and the mood was as stale as week old bread.

Mark gave him a look.

"You know you don't need to lie, I'm a big boy, I tied my own shoelaces today and everything."

Mark sighed.

"Stiles."

"Is there someone else?"

Maybe it was honorable of Mark not to deny it. But it still hurt.

"How long?"

"It just happened. I'm sorry Stiles." Mark couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"How long." Stiles took it as a sign of growth that he was able to keep his voice even.

"Three months."

And there it was.

"Happy Anniversary." Stiles finished calmly, rising from the table.

He stood up and walked out. He walked a good fifteen miles back to his apartment, reminding him of the long walks he used to take as a teenager and laid down when he finally reached his bed. He couldn't think or react. For once he truly felt numb.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a voice whisper 'wolves mate for life.'

When Scott made his weekly call, he knew something was wrong. When Stiles admitted that he and Mark had broken up, Scott notified the pack that he would be gone for a week and visited Stiles.

"That bastard." Scott growled.

"Tell me where he is!" he continued, bristling.

"Scott no! Just leave it alone." Stiles groaned. He was still trying to wrestle with the issue and needed his best friend to help him finish the rest of the Ben & Jerry's collection he had stocked in the freezer.

The two sat and ate ice-cream for a while. Scott slowly calming down.

"What would you do if Allison left you?" Stiles asked suddenly.

"She wouldn't." Scott retorted indignantly.

"I know, I mean what would you do?" Stiles continued suddenly fascinated by the ingredient list on the tub of Cherry Garcia he was holding.

"I know she's the one." Scott offered.

"Wolves mate for life." Stiles finished his best friends thought quietly.

"Yeah. When you know you just know." Scott added quietly.

When you know you just know.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	3. Chapter 3

CH 3

Derek stepped out of his Camaro to find Scott waiting on the porch. Derek could smell the anger rolling off him in waves.

He could also smell Stiles.

"Hey" Scott acknowledged, standing up quickly, practically leaping off the stairs.

Derek nodded, his stomach lurching as he stepped closer, smelling sadness mixed with the inherent sweetness that he knew was Stiles' scent.

"Is everything OK?" he asked Scott.

Scott nodded, wanting to keep his best friends private life, well private.

"Yeah, he's just going through a rough patch." Scott stated plainly.

"It's all clear." Scott added looking into the forest.

"Thanks for standing watch." Derek nodded.

Derek entered the decrepit house and shut the door behind him.

Scott shook his head as he headed home in the moonlight.

The next day Derek headed to a place he had only visited after the fire had taken his family. He hesitated longer than he wanted to as the creaky elevator came to a stop on the third floor. He finally stepped out before the elevator made its way back to the ground floor and made his way through the dim corridors. The area looked downright eerie after hours. Derek was not scared of eerie. Derek was used to eerie. Still, he already regretted coming as he halted at a door at the end of a hallway.

He pushed it open to find a woman, her hair graying gracefully, her face set with lines that meant she smiled a lot, serving to enhance her beauty, rather than diminish it.

"Hello there" she smiled as she packed files away and rearranged her cluttered desk.

"Want to sit?" She pointed to a small red chair that was part of a circle occupied by different colored chairs.

Derek shook his head, not moving.

"Fine. You know that my counseling hours have passed?" She spoke matter of factly.

Derek grimaced. Ready to retreat.

She began hanging pieces of paper that served as makeshift canvases where children had scrawled 'We love You Dr. Seashorn' in crayon.

"No one should ever have to go through what you've been through. I'm sorry."

Derek paused.

"I just have don't know how to." Derek choked, the words still not allowing themselves to exist outside of his conscious mind.

Dr. Seashorn waited patiently as Derek deliberated whether he should turn and walk out the door. So she offered.

"Let people in? Trust others? Lose someone else?" Dr. Seashorn finished as she looked at her handiwork. She ran her hands over a picture of a stick figure dressed as a super hero of some sort, flying over a city.

"You sure you don't want to sit? For a little chat?" She stared at him looking slightly worried as he grimaced slightly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Derek nodded.

"Well. I know you don't want to go down the traditional session route. And honestly while I think you need to." She thought for a moment, Derek watching her every move.

"You'd probably get upset by the process and leave midway. Which for someone in my profession is extremely frustrating. " She continued in her soothing manner.

" I know you've thought about what happened a great deal. Probably too much for your own good."

Derek exhaled quietly.

She smiled at him.

"Let me tell you something Derek."

She stood in front of him and she took his hand. Her hand was soft and warm and Derek suddenly felt safe. Like someone was listening.

"All we have in this world is time."

Derek stared into her eyes wondering what she meant.

"All we have is time." She repeated, emphasizing each word.

She let go of his hand gently.

"What are you going to do with your time here? Live in pain and fear?"

She posted another child's drawing on the wall and took a step back to admire her handiwork.

She then picked up a chunky handbag that was so large it seemed like it could hold small child if she needed to take one home. She patted his shoulder.

"Yours goes right there Derek. I expect to have it next week." She said in a cheerful tone, pointing at the one space missing on the wall of colorful drawings.

Derek stared at the wall, his mind processing the new information just given to him.

"Now go out there and live." She said quietly.

She gave him a wave and was gone.

Derek ventured into the woods until the forest reclaimed the land entirely, leaving no evidence of the human race. There he walked through the dense brush until he reached the river he visited with his family. No one knew about it and he loved being there all alone. He was always alone anyway.

He slipped into the rushing water, letting the water relax his aching body.

He stayed like that for hours pondering Dr. Seashorn's words.

All we have in this world is time.

Long after the sun had set, Derek walked back home to his shell of a house, glad to have some time to clear his head. He felt so tired but before he was even close to reaching the front door he smelled the stench of death, an old kill that was now essentially rotting flesh. At his doorstep he found the torso of a deer, its head and back legs missing. A bloody and crude message, but a message none the less.

"If you want to do something, do it now!" he roared into the sky, warning anyone or anything hering distance, that he would take any or all challengers.

He flung the hunk of bloodied meat with all his might, watching as it disappeared into the forest and splattered against the ground with a muffled thud.

Inside he made himself a cup of coffee and trained for hours, enjoying the way the soreness and pain reminded him of his sense of duty and the never-ending need to get even stronger.

When his body was beyond its threshold, Derek stopped and took a shower. After guzzling down a six pack of beer he took out a piece of paper. He stared at it for hours not knowing what to draw. He drank beer after beer and just stared at the blank canvas. He finally began to draw.

He drew his family from memory with him sitting in the furthest right corner. He then filled in Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and stopped. Staring at the group. He gave each their own expressions of how they would act if this was a family portrait. Allison and Scott would be smiling like goof balls while Lydia and Jackson would give some sort of mall portrait seriousness and Erica and Boyd would just smile, happy to be there. His family would all smile knowing that it was a family portrait and Derek would smile too.

At 3 am, using a few colored pencils he found in the bottom of a large chest in a practically incinerated bedroom to fill in the portrait, he stopped and stared at the picture. It looked amazingly real.

Tired, he edged his way up the stairs throwing off his pants and shirt till he was left in his boxers.

He flopped onto his bed and wrestled with the covers, his mind listening to his heart strum painfully in his chest. Derek rose from his bed with a start; he swore he could hear howling in the distance. He leaped off the stairwell and stood outside his front door listening to see if he could hear or sense any activity in the distance, but nothing stirred.

He returned to his bed, even more tired than he had been before. His sides ached.

After two hours of not falling asleep he stood and walked back down the stairs.

Derek stared at the picture for what seemed like an eternity and at 4am, without thinking, his hand reached for a pencil and began to draw the final piece of the portrait in careful strokes, tracing the curve of his broad smile, filling in his eyes to show how they caught the light and always expressed how he felt, and the comfort of his presence, tucked safely in Derek's arms. As he drew, Derek felt a tightness in his chest, constricting inside him like a snake wrapping around his internal organs.

As the sun rose he stared at the picture, the people looking back at him, radiating happiness.

He placed it in a folder and watched the sun rise alone in a cloudless sky. He felt the warmth touch his bare skin, reminding him that he was alive. Flesh, and blood, and life.

Later that month Stiles met Scott at Betsy's who stared at his jeep which was filled to the brim with Stiles' belongings.

"Dude, you could have totally called" Scott grimaced.

"Nah, I got everything" Stiles pointed though he did have a tearful goodbye with his awesome computer chair with built in lumbar support, but regardless he was home, diploma in hand.

As the two ate their burgers and started on their milkshakes Scott continued the conversation.

"I'm glad you're here man. My partner in crime is back."

"Well I don't know for how long but still, you know till I find a job" Stiles added.

"Well whatever you choose, it's always more fun when you're around."

"Yeah, we find more ways to get ourselves in trouble when we're together." Stiles continued.

"Allison's almost done with school too right?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah. She's finishing up an externship out there before she comes back."

"She found a job out here?" Stiles asked in surprise.

"Yeah in the next county but still close, she was looking since the beginning of her senior year."

Stiles nodded, knowing he should have done the same but was too caught up in his own issues.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me." Scott spoke quietly.

Stiles stopped chomping on his fries. Taken a back and feeling like he had missed the last few chapters in the Allison/Scott romance novella, he quickly returned to form. Of course they were going to get married.

"Wow. Dude congrats!" Stiles thumped Scott on the back, beaming at his best friend.

"Thanks man. I'm nervous." Scott admitted, smiling sheepishly.

Stiles laughed.

"What, like she would say no? When you know you just know right?"

Scott smiled his signature goofy smile that he had given when he met Stiles on the playground the first day of first grade.

"Yeah. Still."

"You need help ring shopping?" Stiles offered.

Scott shook his head.

"Nah, I already found the perfect one."

That one felt like a slap in the face. How much time had passed since Stiles and Scott had 'Bro Time'?

Scott gripped his shoulder.

"Sorry, I was going to ask you but I was walking by an antique store one day after work and saw it in the window. "

Stiles smiled

"Its totally cool man. I'm excited for you."

Scott exhaled

"Yeah."

Stiles remembered when the two lovebirds had first met. It was an instant connection. Scott was one of the lucky ones.

When Stiles got home he was greeted by cold Chinese take out on the dinner table and Brenda Lee's 'Break It to Me Gently' blaring from the stereo. He found his dad lying on the couch sleeping like the dead, a half glass of whiskey on his chest, rising and falling as he slept.

His dad only listened to Brenda Lee when he was really missing his mom.

Stiles took the glass off his father's chest, took a sip, and poured the rest down of it the kitchen sink.

"Dad" stiles gently woke his father.

The Sherriff stirred.

"Hey kiddo, was wondering when you'd get here."

"Scott and I were catching up and we lost track of time. Sorry."

"I love this song." The Sherriff stated wistfully as the chorus kicked in, Brenda Lee's voice crooning sadly through the dark house.

"Me too." Stiles agreed gently.

After getting his father to go upstairs and sleep, Stiles looked over the Chinese food and decided to eat, even thought it was almost 3 am.

He heaped a bunch of greasy Chinese take out onto a plate and sat down with the original Star Wars film. Anyone who really knew him would know why Stiles loved watching it, he was sure he had seen it close to a 150 times and there was no slowing down in sight.

As he sat and ate, his mind wandered as it often did.

Stiles felt weird talking to Scott about his relationship problems, it was most likely due to their past history of Stiles whining about Derek. Scott had asked him how he was doing after the break up but Stiles didn't have to be a werewolf to see how angry Scott got when Stiles recounted what happened or started getting sad from reminiscing.

As soon he fell into bed at an ungodly hour, he started dreaming.

He was back in Dr. Gelsinger's counseling sessions, the friendly lady with the pleasant smile who just let Stiles talk after his mother had passed. He had been uncharacteristically quiet for a while and the Sherriff had been worried enough to put him in twice a week sessions after school. Being able to talk to people who weren't immediately tied into his tragedies made it easier for Stiles to talk. He had done his fair share of crying with his father and he didn't want to burden him further knowing that the Sherriff was being strong for both of them.

In the sessions he listened to kids around his age who had real problems, one he had befriended was Syd. Syd had a deathly phobia of falling and shattering his head on the ground, his acute anxiety so strong that he believed one crack would release his brains like the contents of a cracked egg across the ground at the point of impact. He was so incapacitated by his anxiety that he had to take up permanent residence in the Beacon Hills Sanatorium where he lived in a padded room. Stiles had visited often, bouncing on the cushioned floors and walls, where Syd would finally be able to relax and not feel like his death was around the corner. The two played cards, talked, and played video games. Stiles was even able to convince him to go around the psychiatric ward in a wheelchair, making sure to have him look at the windows which gave glimpses of the outside world.

Trapped in Syd's comfortable cell, Stiles was able to talk again and come to peace with what had transpired. Knowing that he could walk outside without feeling that the earth would swallow him up whole gave him an appreciation for the life he still had to live.

After waking up the next day, Stiles took the liberty of emptying the fridge of anything junk food like and then restocked it with healthier foods. He sat down on the couch with his trusty laptop and searched for jobs and after submitting a few applications he took a nap, a habit he had picked up in college. When he woke he set about making dinner, something he hadn't done often since leaving home. He cooked a Stilinksi family staple, lasagna but substituted with low fat cheese and lean ground turkey instead of beef and added some vegetables in for good measure. When his dad came home from his shift, the two sat down for dinner.

Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet.

"So, you and Steven."

"His name was Mark." Stiles corrected.

"And we aren't together anymore."

"I see." The Sherriff finished nonchalantly, his voice sounding pleased if anything. He didn't like Stiles dating anyone who couldn't muster the courage to meet his family, especially since Stiles' family was small.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The Sherriff offered, finishing his beer ceremoniously.

Stiles shook his head.

He just didn't want to talk to anyone about it. He realized he was still hurting. Derek's rejection and Mark's betrayal made him strange. He felt raw.

The next day, after sleeping till noon, Stiles parked his jeep in the Beacon Hills Hospital parking lot and ventured in, taking the elevator to the third floor where the psychiatric ward helped those who needed assistance with their mental states.

He stepped out of the elevator and found the notice board that listed the individual departments in the psych ward, and the specialists working in each of them. He searched for Dr. Gelsinger but was unable to find her name still listed in the counseling department. He turned the corner and meandered to her office, hoping her replacement was just as nice as she was, when he heard a voice call out to him.

"Stiles?"

Stiles turned to find a guy around his age, his raven colored hair tousling near his shoulders, making his blue eyes even more pronounced. His skin was pale and a little pasty, typical of someone who hadn't been outside in years. He looked like a character out of a gothic novel, his ghostly glow adding somehow to how hauntingly handsome he was. He was sweating and breathing had against the wall next to the elevator, his hands wrapped around himself like a person giving themselves a hug.

"Syd?" Stiles ventured.

"Yeah. You remembered." The youth said with a small smile.

"What are you doing down there?" Stiles questioned.

"Just testing out this new medication. Supposed to help me." Syd nodded to a door with an exit sign painted above it.

"Syd, Syd are you ok?" a soft voice floated towards them. Stiles turned to see a waiflike figure with a mass of red curls approaching them, the red sparking against her ivory colored skin in an almost unreal contrast.

Was he on the set on a Tim Burton film?

When she reached them, she looked over Syd with a frown.

"I told you to wait for me."

"Got a little bit adventurous" Syd supplied with a small smile, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He shifted

"Stiles this is Geraldine." He said presenting the auburn haired girl.

"You can call me Gerry, some people find it easier." She added gently.

"I actually like Geraldine." Stiles responded with a small wave.

"Me too." Syd concurred with a small smile.

She turned to Stiles slowly

"Should we help him back to his room?"

"Maybe we should keep him there for a while, make him learn his lesson?" Stiles offered. Geraldine laughed.

Stiles grabbed Syd, who returned to breathing heavily, eyes shut tightly being led by Stiles back to his room as Geraldine supervised, a hand on Syd's shoulder gliding slowly across the linoleum floored ward with them until they reached Syd's padded room.

"Thanks stiles." Syd gushed, sweat practically dripping from his brow.

"No problem man."

He sat with Syd and Geraldine and caught up with everything they had been going through, even bouncing on the padded floor, remembering how much pleasure he had gotten from doing it a decade ago. He learned that Geraldine, who looked like she was out of a renaissance painting with her mass of hair and soft pink lips that matched her haunting features had Osteogenesis Imperfecta, a condition from which her bones grew abnormally brittle, causing her to be in both arm and leg casts by the time she was 9 years old.

"I broke every single bone in my body by the age of 11" she stated placidly.

Geraldine's family had asked that she stay at the pysch ward and train herself to move carefully and then return to the outside with the new skills now that she was old enough to go to college. He learned that Syd was on a new trial medication to mitigate his anxiety but which left him with bouts of narcolepsy. Stiles was able to talk with them about school and how he had loved living and experiencing something new and different. They told him about their lives and how different they had always felt, how Geraldine was treated like a porcelain statue, not being allowed to join in any games or having the chance to go through normal school. Syd also concurred having been tutored since childhood and people had even made fun of him before entering the sanatorium. They told him how they had found ways to live with their conditions and not be defined by them.

Syd's room was scattered with sketch pads, where hundreds of buildings had been drawn in intricate detail. Syd explained each drawing, stating that despite his fears, he had wanted to be an architect one day. Stiles found architecture books taking up the majority of his library and couldn't help be inspired by how ironic and optimistic they were to Syd's condition.

Stiles felt more comfortable than he had in a long time, there was no judgment, no expectation. Like two refugees from the outside world, Syd and Geraldine liked listening as much as Stiles liked talking, and they admired everything he spoke of. Even the sad things.

So alongside looking for jobs and making sure his father ate homemade meals every day, Stiles spent a great deal of time with his new friends in a padded room. He also observed how Syd stared out into the open expanse of the sky.

"So are you dating anyone Stiles." Syd inquired one day.

"I was." stiles replied off handedly.

"I'm sorry he hurt you." Geraldine offered gently placing her Queen of Spades on the table.

"Ah. Thanks."

He wondered if Geraldine was some sort of psychic or just extremely intuitive. First the "he" and secondly the hurt. How would she have known either?

So he talked. He talked about how Derek had rejected him and how Mark had cheated on him, how he never really felt like Mark and he connected on a deeper level and how much it hurt to find out that he had been betrayed. The emotions rolled out of him and by the time he was done Geraldine was the one listening, nodding quietly while Syd slept on the floor.

"He pushed you away because he cares about you Stiles." Geraldine spoke quietly.

"Uh. No Geraldine." Stiles scoffed.

"He didn't want an annoying kid getting in his way. He wants someone strong."

Geraldine stared at him with an understanding look. After a moment's reflection

"Someone he can respect." Stiles stated in almost a whisper.

Geraldine laughed.

"You don't think you're strong?" She asked.

"Uh yeah. I'm not. I'm just stiles."

"You aren't a kid anymore stiles, see what he has to say." Geraldine urged gently, bypassing any notion of Mark in her conversation.

"I just don't know if I can see him again G. I haven't seen him since that day."

Even after that one day where Stiles had practically been so broken hearted and expected the stupid wolf to be at his door with some chocolates and hugs. Where he had choked and called opening with "what are you up to, oh its 2am. How do you like that?" after that horrible break up. Stupid bastard.

"Do or Do not. There is no try." Geraldine stated gently trying out her best Yoda impersonation, her silvery voice comical in its attempt at a gravelly green alien mentor.

Stiles smiled widely.

"You're quickly becoming my favorite person G." he smirked.

He watched as Geraldine's eyes drifted towards Syd who was beginning to snore quietly.

"So Geraldine will you help me with something?" Stiles started.

"Anything, as long as it's not too strenuous. I might not be too much help if that's the case. But yes, anything." Geraldine smiled lifting an elbow cast.

The next day stiles pushed a wheelchair into the psychiatric ward and quickly located Geraldine in the development disabilities wing, watching as she slowly but gracefully bandaging her legs. She let her dress fall over them and looked like any other girl, if any other girl looked like a princess from a far away land that was locked up in some obscure tower guarded by a moat and fire breathing dragon.

The two found Syd in his room, lying on his back reading an architectural digest magazine in his room.

"Hey guys." He greeted them.

He saw the wheel chair and looked at them curiously.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles held out his hand.

"Syd would I ever hurt you?"

"What. Stiles?"

"Syd would I ever hurt you?" he repeated evenly.

"No. you wouldn't."

"Take my hand."

'Why?" Syd said suspiciously.

Geraldine extended her hand

"Take my hand as well."

"What are you two up to?"

"Would I ever hurt you?" Geraldine asked.

Syd took it as he and Geraldine walked to the exit, Stiles next to them.

"No stiles." Syd balked.

"You have to see what it looks like outside" Stiles coaxed.

"Stiles I can't."

"You have to, it looks amazing."

He held out his hand.

"It's time. We got you."

Syd took his hand.

Stiles sat Syd down and wheeled him slowly towards the exit, the door open revealing the outside world. Syd began sweating uncomfortably. As they reached the exit Stiles brought the wheel chair to a stop.

He held out his hand again.

"Stiles." Syd's voice was traced in fear.

"Syd. You can do this".

Stiles saw fear in his friend's eyes, and a silent determination there as well.

He took Stile's hand with an iron grip. He turned and took Geraldine's hand in the other.

Stiles and Geraldine slowly walked towards the parking lot, which was incidentally made of hard asphalt. He felt Syd grasp tightly around his hand, but Stiles didn't say anything, focusing on reaching the park where the autumn foliage was out in its full glory.

It felt like a lifetime, and Syd's vice grip on his hand felt like the bones in his hands were splintering into pieces, but the trio kept walking towards the grass.

A small snap, like the sound of a twig breaking reached Stiles ears.

"Ah. My finger broke." Geraldine reflected nonchalantly.

"Are you alright? Do we need to go back?" Syd inquired, Stiles could feel the anxiety coursing through his voice.

Geraldine shook her head with a smile.

They finally reached the grassy area where the trees grew naturally, their leaves turning red, yellow, and orange in a mirage of explosive color that made Syd stop in his tracks.

"It's amazing" he whispered like a child seeing Disneyland for the first time.

Syd breathing was still intense, like he had run a mega marathon, but his grip on stiles now tortured hand eased slightly, the three stared at the vista before them, the sunlight playing across their faces as they stood in silence enjoying the company of nature.

Stiles realized how much he missed the little things in life.

Syd's breathing was stabilizing slowly. From the corner of his eye Stiles noticed how Syd turned to exchange smiles with Geraldine.

"Can I lay down?" Syd asked, his wonder of the beautiful scene fading as his anxiety returned.

"Yeah of course man."

So Syd lay down on the carpet of leaves his breathing slowing down gradually.

"Wow. That's the sky. I haven't seen it in 15 years." Syd reflected in wonder.

Stiles laid down, hand still tightly trapped in Syd's and Geraldine on his other side, her hand laced across his forehead. Even now, her index finger was swelling to an angry red, but she didn't shed a single complaint, willing to stay by his side and share the experience. The three stared into the sky.

"It really is beautiful." Geraldine whispered, her words catching on the breeze.

"It feels so different when you're actually here." Syd murmured quietly, the guy had obviously dreamed for years about doing something as easy as walking outside, enjoying what the world had to offer.

Stiles couldn't help noticing the way Geraldine looked at Syd and how he leaned into her gentle touches, even a blind man could see that the two were in love.

He turned away his breath tight in his chest.

Are you OK stiles? Syd's voice came labouredly.

Yeah, just something in my eye. You know, pollen. Stiles murmured in response.

Everyone was falling in love around him, and he, he was just there.

Stiles regained his composure.

"You know you could always lie down when it gets too much Syd." Stiles offered.

"Geraldine's been helping me with it. But you know in the outside world, it would look weird just lying down somewhere, like on the sidewalk. Or a busy street."

"People would think I was crazy." Syd finished.

Stiles giggled inappropriately, and his giggles turned into loud, inappropriate laughs that rolled out of him like water from a spring, infectiously flooding his companions senses, the three of them laughing into the setting sky like, well, lunatics.

It was the first time Stiles had laughed like that since Mark.

It was dusk when the three finally stood from their sky watching expedition. As the three approached the psychiatric wing, Stiles saw a man in a leather jacket that reminded him of Derek's, holding a folder in his hand, watching them from the parking lot. Stiles' stomach jumped, wondering if it really was the alpha. As he stared back, a car pulled out of the parking lot obscuring his view, and when it had moved, the figure was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

And There It Is Ch 4

This seems to be slow build up! The characters are doing what they want at this point and I'm just typing their journeys. Sorry for the delays, I know it's frustrating to wait to see what's going to happen (trust me sometimes I don't even know).

Stiles woke approximately 15 minutes before noon, which he took as an improvement.

He ventured into his closet looking for clean clothes, since he had been lazy for the past few days, ignoring the pile of dirty clothes lying on his bedroom floor. He was a busy guy with all his visits with Syd and Geraldine and the slew of late night dinners he was having with Scott and Allison lately. His foot hit something that rustled and he bent down to find a small box labeled 'my favorite things.' Inside he found a stack of collector cards he had worked so hard on amassing in grade school, stickers, and a bird's nest. He also found the small, yet rather sharp pocket knife that his mother had given him for his 7th birthday. It was engraved with 'To Stiles, something for all your adventures, love mom.' He put it the pocket of his jeans, remembering how the weight felt against his right leg.

He lazed about the house checking his email and sending out several text messages to Scott, Syd, and Geraldine, who despite her brittle bones could in fact, text like a Japanese school girl. After lounging on the couch, he decided to start cooking, since the house was running low on homemade meals. After keeping himself busy with getting the ingredients ready, he turned on the oven, his new best friend. As he set the temperature, his thoughts began to return to him, Geraldine's words ringing in his ears. Time had passed, Stiles had grown. He was different now. But do people really change? Would Derek be different now that he had been an alpha for several years? Or would they fall back into their previous roles. One pushing and the other running?

A knock at his door startled him as he was humming that insanely annoying 'Call Me Maybe' song, which in fact, shoot, he wished a werewolf would.

He answered without looking through the peephole, because who at 2 in the afternoon would want to cause harm to someone like Stiles?

He swung the door open and there, just like the universe had heard his thoughts and for once obliged him out of pity stood Mr. Who Should Not Be Named. Aside from being his usual handsome self, Stiles noticed that the alpha looked unbelievably pale in the sunlight, and was sporting some pretty big bags under his eyes.

"Hi." Stiles blurted out after realizing he was staring.

"Is your father home?" Derek asked.

"No. He's at work."

Derek took a step forward and surveyed the insides of the house, sniffing. Derek didn't exactly think of the Sherriff's station as a cozy place, so it was safe to say that he would rather visit Stiles' dad at home as opposed to a place where his record was on file and his name was on the top three suspects list whenever something weird happened in Beacon Hills.

"Are you hungry? I'm making some chicken parm. Low fat, high protein." Stiles offered trying not to sound awkward.

Derek was slow to respond. His eyes kept surveying the room like a terminator trying to find John Connor before annihilating him with its bare hands.

"When will he be home?" He inquired slowly as if something more important was on his mind.

"I don't know he's working late tonight again. Which in fact." Stiles let it drop. So he needed to have a chat with his dad regarding why he was always working late lately.

"Make sure to stay indoors after sun set." Derek finalized looking through the kitchen window and into the road below.

"Of course officer. " Stiles responded laconically.

Sarcasm baby, it's what's for dinner. Or lunch.

"Were you having someone over?" Derek inquired sharply, turning slightly towards the front of the house.

"No. Well, you know people stop by all the time. I'm just really popular. Comes with the territory."

He could have sworn Derek scoffed.

Why, why, why was he such a spaz around people he thought were cute?

The sound of a car approaching alerted him to movement outside.

A second knock came at the door.

Stiles opened the door to find Mark of all people standing there.

Sweet. Mark _and_ Derek in the same room. This day was starting out to be just _super_.

"Stiles," Mark breathed, the wistfulness in his voice causing Stile's heart to hiccup.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles urged.

Can I come in? Mark continued, a pleading look in his eyes.

Stiles nodded though the neurons in his brain were firing 'No!' in rapid succession.

Mark stepped into the house and saw Derek. He reached out a hand.

"Hey man, I'm Mark."

Derek started to answer for a moment.

'I'm Stiles' cousin. Nice to meet you."

Nice, remaining nameless. Classy even.

Stiles turned his attention to Mark.

He looked good. _Really_ good. It looked like he had hit the gym or in his case the hiking trails a lot because the dude was looking as muscular as Derek was. His legs looked drool worthy in the pair of fitted jeans he was wearing and a flannel shirt that was rolled up, showing off his sleeve tattoos made him look pretty bad ass. His glasses framed his angular face in an irresistible manner and a new lip ring at the corner of his bottom lip just begged to be tugged at. By Stiles' teeth.

Why did he have to look so damn good?

Mark stood a few feet away from Derek both of their eyes trained on him. Mark looked like he wanted to get into some deep conversation while Derek was looking at him with a confused but irritated look, like a baby being woken from a nap, though with more stubble and angrier looking eyes.

Stiles wondered what it would be like to drop some mud on the two and watch them wrestle. Now that would be something to watch. Or oil. Even jello.

Orange Jell-O.

Wait no, Derek would_ pulverize_ Mark. Stiles would have to set some ground rules and make Derek fight with only human power. Yeah that would definitely work. Shirtless Jello wrestling. A sport he could totally get into.

"Stiles." Mark's voice cut through his fantasy.

Stiles regained focus on the scene before him.

"Yeah."

"Can we talk?" Mark continued.

Derek cleared his throat. He didn't need to be a werewolf to know what was about to happen. His face was stoic, unreadable, as he left.

"I'm leaving."

He nodded towards Stiles.

"Remember what I said."

"Derek wait." Stiles started.

But Derek was already shutting the door behind him. Now he and Mark were left all alone. Wait, had Derek wanted to stay for lunch? Had he wanted to talk? Why did he have to stay in after sun set like someone's grandma? What was going on? Why was his dad always working late? Why were people keeping things from him?

Mark was suddenly very close. His eyes sad and lonesome like two stars missing their constellation.

"Why are you here Mark?"

"I had to see you."

"Why."

"You never returned any of my calls, emails, voicemails. All my gifts. The teddy bear. "

The shredded remains of a giant teddy bear were probably rotting in a dumpster somewhere.

"Are you asking why?"

"Look Stiles I know I screwed up. I just want to be with you."

"What happened to you and." Stiles couldn't get himself to finish.

Mark cringed.

"It was a stupid mistake. Please Stiles, everyone's allowed one mistake."

Mark's hands were on his waist. Big hands bringing their bodies together.

"Mark you can get anyone you want."

"I want you." Mark whispered, his lips tickling Stile's neck, making him shudder.

The voices in Stiles head screamed 'Liar!' 'Cheater!' 'Stop!' But Stiles couldn't help reacting physically. At least someone wanted him.

"Mark." Stiles reprimanded feebly.

"I miss you." Mark whispered, sending chills down his spine.

"I want to start over. Just you and me."

That was like an lightning bolt right into the middle of Stiles' forehead.

He pushed himself out of Mark's grip. He remembered.

"Mark why are you here now? You never wanted to come visit my house before."

"I want to. I'll do it. I'm just weird around family and all that."

Stiles stared at him.

"We just weren't going anywhere Mark."

"But I'm ready now. I'm ready to take it all the way."

"Three years has to mean something Stiles." Mark urged his lips dangerously close to his neck, Stiles could feel the warmth. He tried not to react physically.

Stiles searched his feelings. He remembered when he found the adoption certificate. He remembered how he wasn't surprised. He remembered not being unhappy or upset. Even though they had been together for three years. Secrets.

Stiles offered him a reprieve.

"What's my favorite movie?"

Mark looked confused.

"Uh. Star wars." Good job. They only watched it ten times.

"Why?"

Mark looked stumped.

"Because you liked how Darth Vader was his father all along." Mark smiled confidently, his dimples making an appearance.

Wrong. So wrong.

Who was this guy? How could he _not_ know?

Stiles shook his head.

"No Mark, it was because Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia finally take control of their own lives. They save _themselves_ by making the right choices.

Mark looked dumbfounded.

"Mark we were just moving apart." Stiles continued sad that his ex didn't even listen to him when he had talked.

Mark dropped his head, looking at the ground sadly.

He nodded.

He turned to leave, but stopped.

"You know I wasn't the only one cheating in our relationship." Mark said in quiet bitterness.

Stiles looked at him strangely.

"What?"

"You even talk in your sleep, you know that?" Mark continued sadly.

Stiles didn't want him to continue any further.

"During midterms, finals." he resounded.

Mark paused running a hand through his hair.

"He's never going to be with you. You know that."

And with that he walked out. Stiles stood there, his mouth wide open like a gold fish.

It felt like everything was crashing down around him.

Stiles was still sitting on the couch staring into space when the smoke detector screeched on, snapping him out of his thoughts. He rushed to find the chicken burnt beyond recognition. He opened the kitchen windows and tossed the contents into the trash.

His phone chimed several times as text messages came in but he wasn't even present enough to care.

He found himself driving to the old Hale house.

Like a moth to a flame.

When he approached the weathered house, his heart started beating against his chest. He didn't know what he was doing. He checked his phone, Geraldine was asking him what he was doing, Syd was telling him that he had a video cam interview with a prestigious architecture firm and Scott hadn't texted him back, that goofball.

He reached the front door and found it smashed in, the top half practically hanging from the hinge while the bottom half lay shattered on the ground. Light poured in from the outside showing the blackened floor inside.

Stiles became sharply aware, snapping out of his funk. His senses going into overdrive in a fight or flight response.

"Derek" He called cautiously.

No response.

He panicked. Was Derek inside, badly injured?

"Derek" He called again stepping into the house. It was not the smartest thing to do for sure, but Derek could be hurt.

Stiles could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He stepped over the shattered front door and ventured inside. As he looked around he saw that the insides were trashed beyond recognition. The Hale house was always a wreck, but this tipped the scales on what was considered livable. The floors had been clawed at, the furniture had been destroyed and several walls looked like a wrecking ball had smashed through them leaving chunks of the interior missing.

Stiles took a step back, this was a job for the police. Or Scott.

"What are you doing here?" a voice echoed behind him.

Stiles practically jumped out of his skin.

"Dude! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Stiles turned to find Derek, irises circled in red staring at him.

"What are you doing here Stiles?" he repeated irritation coursing through his voice.

"What happened to your house?" Stiles countered.

Derek grit his teeth for a moment looking around the crumbling shell.

"Stay here." he gestured before climbing up the stairs. He returned a few minutes later, stoic expression intact.

"Let's go." He directed, grabbing Stiles by the arm.


	5. Chapter 5

And There It Is Ch 5

Notes: Sorry for the delay! Things are ramping up so thank you for continuing to follow the story! Also tell me what you think, any and all feedback is appreciated.

Derek led Stiles into the forest behind his house. The two seemed to walk for miles, and when Stiles felt Derek's iron grip on him loosen gradually, he pulled out of it and boldly laced his fingers through the alpha's. The wolf man huffed but didn't let go, his hand covering Stiles' like a warm glove. The two walked hand and hand in the forest.

It felt nice.

As the forest loomed before them, the trees began to grow closer together and the shadows began to expand into deeper and deeper regions of darkness. Stiles eventually noticed that Derek was putting more weight on his right foot than his left. After training his eyes on the figure before him, Stiles reached out and grabbed the left hand side of Derek's torso.

Derek instantly turned around and roared into his face loudly, eyes wide and glowing red. Birds squawked and flew from their nests above them in annoyance.

"Thanks, now I'm deaf." Stiles affirmed flatly.

"Don't do that." Derek seethed inches away from Stiles, looking like he wanted to tear Stiles limb from limb.

"What happened?"

"Let's go." Derek rebutted, pulling Stiles deeper into the forest by the hand.

"No, Derek! " Stiles insisted.

"Let me see."

"Stiles." The alpha continued, his voice sharp in warning.

"Derek Let me see." Stiles urged, his voice determined.

Derek stopped and looked at him, his face unreadable.

Stiles gently lifted the alpha's shirt and found the perfectly chiseled torso covered in bruises in shades of black and blue accompanied by red, tender areas where new tissue had just formed all over his back.

"It looks really tender" Stiles spoke, gently touching the area, causing Derek to flinch slightly at the contact.

Stiles gently ran his hands over the muscled chest and abdomen. Derek laid his head heavily on Stiles' shoulder, his breath hot and tickling against the small hairs on Stiles' neck.

"How did you do this sourwolf? Are you playing with wolfs bane darts again?" Stiles questioned quietly.

Stiles gently massaged the tissues, coaxing deep and satisfied rumblings from alpha's chest. Even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Derek's skin showed signs that he was in severe pain.

"Derek" Stiles started, looking over into the alpha's eyes, which were staring back at him soulfully.

"Are you ok?" Stiles asked concerned.

Stiles didn't know how it happened but Derek was suddenly all around him.

And then Derek's mouth was on his giving him the neediest, hungriest kisses ever known to man. Derek was holding him tightly against his body trying to force his mouth into Stiles', causing Stiles to moan out in response. The two kept at it for what seemed eternity, but in the forest, it seemed like time stood still. Derek was nipping at the inside of his mouth in a hungry manner and Stiles was clinging against the alpha back with all his might, their mouths clasped together, eyes closed and Stiles writhing against Derek's rock hard wall of muscle, making satisfied sounds as the two made out like horny teenagers.

Derek released him finally with a gasp, crinkling his nose slightly.

"You smell."

"What! No I don't; I showered today thank you very much!" Stiles responded indignantly.

"You know what I mean." Derek said huffing quietly.

He took Stiles' hand in his and pulled him deeper into the forest.

Oh.

Stiles face was flushed pink.

The two finally reached a clearing where a river flowed majestically, undisturbed by the outside world.

"Wow, this place is beautiful." Stiles acknowledged.

"No one can track us this far into the forest." Derek murmured.

Stiles turned to Derek, waiting for more.

Derek stared into the river.

"My family used to come here all the time. Our secret place." Derek supplied quietly.

Stiles looked at the surging water; he saw something shining in the depths.

He took a step forward

"Hey what's that?" Stiles asked pointing at something glinting in the water.

His footing gave way, and in characteristic Stiles manner he stumbled clumsily, about to fall into the river to his peril.

A familiar hand grabbed his and pulled him to safety.

"It's a tin whistle. My sister threw it into the river after getting mad at me for destroying her favorite stuffed animal."

Stiles nodded. He thought for a minute.

"A tin whistle? Wouldn't it have rusted by now?"

"It's obviously made from stainless steel." Derek deadpanned.

"Well obviously" Stiles mimicked rolling his eyes.

Derek sat at the bank of the river, pulling Stiles down so he was sitting next to him, their knees touching.

The two watched the water pass by, the gentle sound of the leaves rustling in the trees.

"Derek what's going on? Are you ok?" Stiles asked finally.

"Just something I have to take care of."

Stiles gently laid his head on Derek's shoulder, sighing quietly.

"Can I help?"

"No."

"Is this one of those I won't let you help me situations?"

"Yes." Derek responded flatly.

"Are you going to be alright? Those bruises are healing really slowly" Stiles continued.

Derek didn't speak. The river ran its course.

The sky slowly began to grey above them threatening rain. The two sat in silence until it started getting uncomfortable. Well at least for Stiles.

"Derek."

"What" the alpha grunted softy.

"If you and I were hanging out. What would you want to do?"

Derek thought for a moment.

"Eat greasy take out and watch Star Wars for the billionth time."

"We haven't seen it that many times." Stiles retorted in quiet disdain.

"I wasn't complaining."

Derek stared into the sky as he noticed the clouds bulging with rain.

"I guess you can identify with two brats that whine their way through life and somehow save the entire universe." Derek huffed quietly.

"Hey! Not cool!" Stiles rose from Derek's shoulder feigning hurt. He pushed Derek's head gently in mock anger.

Derek smirked.

"At least my all time favorite movie isn't Time Cop." Stiles sniped.

"That is not my all time favorite." Derek stated slowly in a dignified manner.

"I bet if I go back right now and turn on your DVD player, Jean Claude Van Damme will be smashing someone's head with his foot, trying to get back in time."

Derek started to refute Stiles' claim, but small droplets of water fell down, wetting his cheeks and hair with gentle splats.

Derek stood with propriety, locking his fingers against Stiles'.

"It's getting dark."

The two walked back in the moody twilight.

Stiles seemed to lag behind, but Derek kept on in a quick pace. Stiles couldn't resist but reach out and tickle Derek under his extended arm.

Derek squirmed roughly with a laugh.

Was that Derek laughing? Stiles made it his mission to make him make that sound again.

"Stiles what are you?!" Derek responded. But Stiles wasn't stopping, he took his chance and tried to get another shot at the alphas ultra sensitive tickle spot. He got a few chances in making the alpha laugh loudly almost forcing him to his knees.

He was suddenly and instantly slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree by the wrists. Derek's pupils dilated, crimson rings forming around the edges.

"Why do you do the most inappropriate things?" Derek breathed, inches away from Stiles, his voice resounding in anger but his eyes hungry with desire. Stiles could feel the warmth from the alpha's breath.

Derek's hands were in Stiles' armpits in a flash and tickling him mercilessly.

Stiles was ultra ticklish.

That was his total undoing.

Not good.

Stiles squawked loudly and tried to squirm out of the alphas grasp, but to no avail.

Ok Ok! Mercy! Mercy! Stiles gasped his face so red he looked like a cherry tomato.

Derek pinned him against the tree and forced their mouths together, his tongue dominating frantically, exploring every inch of Stiles' mouth. Stiles was back to moaning, writhing willing against him. Derek quickly maneuvered Stiles' legs around his hips, pushing so hard against the younger man, that Stiles could hear the bark from the tree actually cracking under the pressure. The alpha claimed Stiles' mouth hungrily, rolling their crotches together in a filthy manner, causing Stiles' temperature to rise quickly to its boiling point. His pants were getting tight and Derek was causing a stream of extremely dirty thoughts to run through his mind.

By the time their lips separated, they were both soaked to the bone.

Derek and Stiles walked hand and hand back through the forest.

Stiles couldn't help but smile.

It was the first time Derek had held his hand.

It was dark by the time the Hale house appeared in the distance; Stiles could hear his shoes sloshing uncomfortably with water.

"We're both soaked through" Stiles stated obviously.

"At least you don't smell like him anymore." Derek spoke into the night.

Stiles pulled himself closer to Derek.

"Derek what are you doing?"

Derek looked into his eyes, the gears in his head turning.

"Derek, it's better to have loved and lost, then not loved at all. That's what Alfred Lord Tennyson said." Stiles whispered.

And there it was. He said it. The cheesiest line in the history of cheesiest lines. It came out like a whisper though, clinging to the air and building a bridge between them and forcing each of them to meet at its middle.

Stiles wasn't prepared for the look Derek gave him in response. His stomach knotted and tears sprang to his eyes when he saw the agony fixated on the wolf man's face. Stiles rushed to his side and pulled the alpha to him as tightly as he could. He looked so lost, in a sea of unsaid 'I love yous,' a child hood consumed in the embers of a horrific fire, swimming in a torrent filled with loneliness and pain that wouldn't wash away the residual anger of its casualties. Stiles realized that something was keeping Derek in fear aside from the demons in his head. Stiles stared into those hazel eyes. Derek looked like a child. Lost and desperately needing a cuddle and soothing word. Stiles did his best, though his counterpart was the better at it, a cuddle from Derek could make everything feel alright, but he did his best, wrapping the hulking wolf man in his arms, laying soft kisses on the alpha's temple and letting the man breath. Sometime during the epic hugfest, Jackson and Lydia had arrived in Jackson's Porsche. After seeing the two clasped together as one, the car promptly drove away leaving them to cling to each other in the night rain.

The rain that would never wash away what had happened.

I'm tough you know. I can handle almost anything. Stiles thought, burying his face into the Alphas neck.

He closed his eyes and placed his head against Derek's, breathing softly needing a connection just as much as the alpha did. Stiles opened his eyes a few moments later to see Derek watching him intently.

"Hi" he said quietly.

Derek continued to stare, looking at Stiles in a different light. He blinked softly, some of his childlike wonder remaining. Stiles wished he could keep Derek like this forever.

"Do you want to talk?" He whispered, the sound being swept away in the cooling breeze that gently passed through the wet autumn foliage.

Derek placed his hands under stile's legs and slowly brought them up cradling the young man in his arms. He stood effortlessly and walked towards the cavernous Hale household. He opened the door with one hand and entered the dark interior, quickly shutting it effortlessly. He let Stiles find his footing and stated 'Bed' with an air of finality that meant that Stiles shouldn't try to argue or debate him on his command.

Stiles heard a tea kettle come to a boil as he stripped down to his boxers, and a few moments later, when Stiles was getting used to hearing the sound of rain pattering against the house, Derek walking in with a teapot and two mugs. Stiles smiled at the thought of Derek owning, let alone using a teapot, but accepted the cup of tea.

He took the mug gratefully from the wolf man and sipped it in the comfort of Derek's makeshift bed.

"Any sugar?" Stiles asked quietly because sugar was one of his many vices, and he loved having it with almost everything.

Derek stood silently like Lurch, and descended the stairs without a word. Stiles listened to the stomp of Derek's footfalls as they returned, the old stairs creaking under his weight.

Derek placed the sugar bowl into Stiles outstretched hand, both of them physically reacting when Stiles fingers overlapped Derek's. It didn't help ease the sudden tension that had risen between them. Derek slowly took off his jacket and pants, Stiles turned away looking at the faded wallpaper in an effort to give the wolf some privacy and turned back when he felt the bed dip as Derek crawled in.

"So." He said awkwardly.

"Feelings kinda suck huh?"

Derek sipped on his mug silently. There were those walls again.

Stiles nodded to himself and drank the tea, which was surprisingly good and not at all an acquired taste taken up by grandmas and anorexic model wannabes who believed its flavor somehow equaled nourishment.

He wondered what Derek's ideal body type would be.

His mind drew a blank.

Stiles glanced at the wolf as he sipped his tea, realizing that father time had been kind to him, his hair was still thick, but his smell had changed. There was a mellowness underlying the tough key notes, like the after taste of a peppermint, when the sweetness flows in past the overpowering mint that hits the tongue. There was also a sharp smell that he had smelt when Derek had appeared at the house before. It was the fragrance equivalence of the color red, invoking a feeling of anxiety and violence.

Still. Maybe the big bad wolf was ready to settle down?

"Are you still dating that guy?" Derek asked suddenly breaking the settling silence.

Yeah right. Settle down my ass.

"No." Stiles said annoyed. They were supposed to talk about them, about Derek's issues.

"Not that it's ANY of your business by the way."

The air changed.

He handed Derek the empty mug and decided to take his future happiness into his own hands. Dammit.

Stiles imagining Derek taking him in the middle of the deserted forest, the two of them writhing out of control like two sexy earthworms. Well if earthworms were sexy. Whatever. Stiles imagined himself yelling out in pleasure as the alpha hit his spot over and over again, trying to make him explode from the inside. He could feel his thoughts releasing waves upon waves of pheromones, allowing Derek to sense his arousal. He could tell when Derek tensed up, muscles straining, that the rush of pheromones had reached the wolf man.

"Stiles what are you?" Derek ventured warily.

Stiles rolled himself onto the wolf man in a quick movement, crotches touching. Derek's pupils were beyond dilated and he could tell that Derek was gripping as hard as he could onto the little control he had left.

"Stiles stop." The edge of Derek's voice contained the smallest quiver.

"What?" Stiles whispered in his most seductive voice. He sucked at being sexy, but it sounded pretty good to him, his lips softly asking the question in an innocent manner.

Stiles dipped himself onto Derek's mouth, their lips touching. Holy. Wow. The taste. Derek's appendage was instantly standing at attention in the worst way making an obscene bulge in his boxer briefs.

Bingo. We have a winner.

Derek was breathing hard, his own pheromones emanating the space, driving Stiles into his a higher state of euphoria, a real life fantasy now taking place.

Derek rolled them over so fast Stiles didn't even realize it. The power in the wolf man's body was incredible. Stiles realized that Derek seemed to be even more formidable than he had remembered. He was more muscular, even more ripped than he had imagined.

Before he could say anything to take back any control he had left in the situation, Derek had clamped his mouth onto Stiles' and was pushing his tongue down his throat. Stiles bucked in bliss.

Stiles still lay with his mouth open for service a few minutes later, eyes closed, practically in heaven.

A low, threatening growl made him open his eyes to see Derek wolfing out.

"Derek? "

Derek's eyes glowed like embers in a fire, he pushed off Stiles and stood still in the middle of the room listening to a disturbance in the distance that Stiles had no way of hearing with his normal human ears.

Derek slammed out of the room, running hard, crashing down the stairs in his wolf state. A moment later the front door slammed rattling the doors and Stiles heard Derek's roar as he ran deeper into the forest leaving him alone in a dark and decrepit house.

Who said it was the boy that ran away from the big bad wolf?

"Why do you always leave?" Stiles asked himself.

Well damn.

Stiles looked down on his body, thin scratches on his waist where Derek had pinned him and his legs still spread, waiting for their chance to be on the wolfs shoulders. Stiles could never catch a break, but then maybe he shouldn't have aimed that high. No one said being with an alpha with major issues would be easy, now did they?

Stiles laid back down smelling Derek on the sheets and pillow. He buried himself in the pile of blankets, the cold creeping in upon the warmth given to him by his cup of admittedly, delicious tea.

He woke some time later, still no Derek.

He stood with a sigh and put on his cold, damp clothing.

Mark's words echoed in his ears.

Stiles felt his anger rising. He knew that the wolf wouldn't ever be ready to take him seriously. All these years and still emotionally constipated?

Mark was right.

Mark was completely right. Stiles was just a make out buddy, nothing more.

Stiles stomped down the stairs angrily, even laughing when one gave way under his weight.

Derek appeared at the doorway sweating.

"Get back up stairs."

Stiles kept walking towards the door.

"I said get up the stairs!" Derek barked.

Stiles could feel his anger turning. Not only was he being shut out, but he was always kept at arm's length. Why was he the only one fighting for this relationship? If Derek was in danger, couldn't he rely on him to help? Just because he was the only human associated with the pack? He deserved better than this. Derek was someone who he cared about, and he was obviously in danger. The rejection of being shut out surged into a hurtful rage inside Stiles. Nothing had changed. Anyone deserved better than this. Stiles had not worried before because it was easier to exist that way. But now, now he didn't care. Derek never had the courage to fight for him. Never. He deserved better than this.

"Stiles I told you to get back upstairs." Derek started.

Stiles had already reached the bottom.

"Why don't you ever listen?!" The alpha roared, the sound of his anger ricocheting around the house like steel bullets inside a glass house.

"Because you never say anything worth listening to!" Stiles yelled back at the top of his lungs, suddenly stunning the wolf man.

He could feel the anger coursing through his veins like fire, burning away any happy memories he had of the Alpha. He was so angry. He had never been this angry. Nothing the alpha could do or say could make him feel otherwise.

"Stiles if you get into that car I will tear it to shreds! You are NOT leaving this house after dark!" Derek roared even louder, causing the windows the rattle slightly.

"Don't ever tell me what to do again," Stiles finalized so evenly he actually believed he could be so detached.

"Screw you Derek."

And there it was.

He turned.

The cold night air hit him like the opened door of a freezer as he unlocked his car and drove rapidly into the foggy night.

Screw Derek for making him feel helpless. He felt so embarrassed. Like a love sick fool who followed around someone who was way out of his league. It was always on Derek's terms. He said jump and Stiles asked how high. He was always the lowest priority. Derek never let him in. _They weren't even friends_, and deep down that hurt more than anything else.

Screw you Derek Hale. I curse the day you were born.

He yelled into the night, slamming his hands against the steering wheel trying to appease the rage that was building up inside.

Stiles felt moisture on his cheeks, he wiped it away angrily.

When he got home, in record time none the less, he looked at his missed calls, not one bit surprised that that bastard hadn't even had the decency to call. He had one message. He dialed into voice mail.

An unfamiliar female voice spoke:

"Hi Stiles, this is Crystal from TriForm Software, I came across your application and wanted to schedule an interview with you and our head of development for the software associate position."

Stiles stared at his phone for a moment.

TO BE CONTINUED…..


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"What did you do to him" Scott snarled angrily edging towards the alpha.

"It's none of your business."

"Uh yeah, he's my best friend."

"Go home McCall."

Scott shook his head wondering what Stiles ever saw in the brooding jackass.

"Give him a reason, stop playing with him like a yoyo."

Derek's eyes flashed.

"You have no idea what it's like." Derek seethed, hackles rising.

"Yes I do, I worry about Allison all the time."

"I'm the alpha." Derek continued, his claws making an appearance his stance lowering as if to attack.

"So?" Scott responded, completely unphased.

"So I need you to know your place, stay alert, and make sure the pack survives." Derek demanded menacingly.

Scott shook his head, already bored with the conversation.

"You don't have to treat him like he's worthless." he clarified defensively.

Derek was inches away from Scott his eyes glowing red and menacing, a feral snarl escaping his lips showing a mouth full of teeth, daring him to say another word. Scott stared back challenging for a moment before looking away.

"Say something like that again and I'll make you regret it."

"Whatever. I'm out of here. " Scott inched past him and walked down the stairs.

Derek swung the door open and disappeared into the house, slamming it behind him.

Scott shook his head sadly as a roar emanated from the old hale house.

"Wait, do you need to stand watch?" Scott called back. No response came. Scott headed out.

It was late in the night when Derek heard it. He rose from his bed, positively blossoming with Stiles' sweet essence intertwined with his own, making him feel overjoyed and anxious at the same time. He escaped out of his window, landing silently on the grass outside his house. The alpha stalked into the forest quietly sensing the foreign entity somewhere in the foliage.

Derek followed his senses until he reached a clearing deep in the woods where the strange scent disappeared. He could tell from a mile away that something was a foot, a trap or a set up, ready to ensnare him. While he wanted to avoid it, he knew he couldn't allow intruders to walk freely in his territory, especially without an invitation.

Derek stepped into the clearing, his senses straining to filter out the circumstances. Something wasn't right.

"Well if it isn't the baby alpha." A deep voice emanated from the outer edge of the clearing, its tone gratingly playful.

Derek stilled his movements until the voice's owner walked into the clearing, materializing before him.

"Running water, plenty of access to live prey, humans that keep to themselves. A nice little sanctuary isn't it?" the voice slithered.

Derek was finally able to see the intruder, a massive man with long flowing hair in his early forties, which didn't make Derek feel any better. Derek knew from his family's lineage that a wolf could easily be hundreds of years old depending on its ability to hold the shift for long periods, stilling the aging process.

"What do you want?" Derek asked plainly.

The wolf laughed.

"Oh Mr. Hale. They said you had such a wonderful sense of humor. Let me introduce myself. I am Seamus, previously of the North Carolina pack."

"Why are you here?" Derek continued with his plain form of questioning, watching the intruding wolfs every move like a hawk.

"Isn't it obvious?" Seamus seemed to expand in size looking even more intimidating than before.

Derek knew what that meant.

"I want to start my own pack Mr. Hale."

"There is no room for you here, move on." Derek replied, his voice sounding like rolling thunder.

Seamus laughed.

"Oh I think there's plenty of room for me here actually." His eyes flashing like diamonds.

Derek took a step forward, a twig snapping underneath him. An instant later the sound of a spring loading snapped his eyes to the ground. Four metal ropes with shackles on the edges shot out towards him like snakes striking their prey. Derek's lightning fast reflexes allowed him to miss three of them, but his previous injuries slowed him down, allowing his right hand to be locked tightly in a iron shackle, the clink of metal around his wrist bringing him down onto the ground with a crash.

"I see that my predecessors have kept you on your toes." Seamus smirked.

"The law!" Derek roared, struggling to get free.

"What law?"

"You know." Derek snarled low in his throat trying to rush the intruder, the shackle straining against him.

"If a challenger wishes to contest an alpha for their territory, the challenger must face the existing alpha on common ground in hand to hand combat."

Seamus laughed with an unfriendly look in his grey eyes, now bright like two orbs in the darkness.

"You child!"

"Do you realize that all laws are sanctioned by the weak, looking to bring peace and harmony into a chaotic world they cannot control?" The wolf circled slowly.

"Do you think any war or battle has been won on fair play? You fool! Every side that has won a war has had an advantage. Better weaponry, more troops, better strategy, a penchant for spilling blood."

Seamus was slowly but steadily approaching, morphing into his wolf state.

"There is no such thing as a fair battle! The very nature of the struggle is the more advantageous party taking down the weaker quarry."

Seamus outstretched his hand, now a razor filled weapon ready to slit through Derek's flesh like it was deli meat.

"Good bye Mr. Hale."

Seamus slashed towards Derek's chest which Derek countered; causing sparks to fly into the air as claw connected against claw, the sound resounding into the night.

Seamus swung with his other paw catching Derek by surprise, ripping into his chest like five daggers stripping flesh, the freshly healed wounds reopening like knives cutting through butter.

Seamus retreated looking at his handiwork.

He stormed towards Derek again, this time, a mouthful of sickle sharp teeth aiming at Derek's neck.

Derek twisted his shackled hand up, extending the steel rope, catching the wolf by its jaws. He quickly brought the shackle against the ground taking down the wolf with an earth shuddering crack.

Twisting, Derek swiped at the creature's stomach drawing blood into the night air.

Seamus growled loudly and extricated himself from the rope.

"My what is that sweet smell you're wearing?" he breathed heavily against his injuries, preparing for his second strike.

Derek stilled, his heart beat frozen.

The intruder read Derek's inflection like a book, knowing he had struck a nerve.

Suddenly, Derek heard another presence nearby. He cocked his head and the presence was gone as quickly as it had emerged. His insides knotted in fear.

They had Stiles' scent.

Derek turned quickly and ducked to the ground as Seamus swiped through the air in a finishing blow.

"Almost" the wolf preened viciously.

Derek felt the crack of a tree in the nearby distance that was bending slightly against his pull. On instinct he moved slowly towards it, causing the rope to slacken.

"Just imagine when I take over this territory. This isolated little hole will be a refuge for rogues, and we'll chase away the weak and insignificant, building a fortress that will exude its power and incite fear into all other packs."

Derek waited, baiting his time. He tried to control his heart rate.

"I hope your chosen one is pregnant or with child Derek. Because with you dies the Hale bloodline." The intruder stated, circling slowly.

"Not that it mattered to anyone outside of this town." The wolf teased cruelly.

The creature bounded towards him like a freight train made out of pure muscle and fury.

Derek waited for his moment and then pulled the shackle tight against it, creating a line. The wolf was clothes-lined against the metal rope and Derek swung the remaining length in a loop around the creatures tree trunk sized neck, choking it. Derek tore massive gashes into the creature's abdomen, slicing through it like a butcher expertly ribboning a piece of meat. Derek twisted his claws upwards slicing through the creature's chest in his killing blow.

The wolf choked out, hacking into the night air as its lungs filled with blood. Derek pulled his claws out.

Seamus, or what was left of him, crashed to the ground like a hunk of dead meat.

Derek stared down at the dying wolf as the life escaped from its body, the wolf fading as the man underneath reappeared. He felt like throwing up. He felt sick. He was no better than they were. He was a killer now, several times over.

The werewolf's remains quickly disintegrated in the makeshift fire Derek made, leaving behind no traces of a struggle. The forest around him danced in the light from its flames, standing as the only witness to his crimes.

Derek inspected the shackles as he took them apart, inside one, the letters RTS were engraved in an ornate fashion. He tossed them into the fire with the remains of its owner.

Derek looked into the peaceful night sky. He felt disgusted, he felt alone. But most of all, he wondered what Stiles was doing.

The next day Derek woke up early, shaved, and put on a respectable looking shirt and a nice pair of jeans. He skipped his signature black jacket and drove purposefully into town.

Derek parked a reasonable distance away from the Stilinksi house and walked to the front door. He should have brought wine. Or flowers. Damn.

On the third knock, Sherriff Stilinski answered the door.

"Mr. Hale." the Sherriff acknowledged placidly, those his eyes were intensely observing him, trying to sleuth out the exact nature of Derek's visit.

"May I speak to you about an important matter Sherriff?" Derek responded, trying to quiet his racing pulse.

The Sherriff nodded holding the door open for him.

Inside Derek found the news paper open on the kitchen table and a single cup of black coffee.

"Here, pull up a chair." The Sherriff gestured.

"Thank you."

The sheriff ventured into the kitchen and pulled out a second coffee cup from a cabinet.

"Do you drink coffee or would you like something with more body?"

It was 10 in the morning.

Derek opened and closed his mouth like a fish, no sound coming out.

"I'll take that as a yes." The Sherriff murmured putting the coffee cup back in its place and then pulling two glasses and a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet.

"Nice to have someone to drink with." The Sherriff continued. As strange as it was, Derek understood. Drinking alone, sleeping alone, existing alone. Derek felt the man's sadness in the cheery morning light.

Derek nodded.

"Stiles isn't here. He's at some job interview." The Sherriff fixed Derek with a stare as if saying, 'because of you.'

"I actually came to see you sir." Derek supplanted.

The sheriff cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay." The Sherriff responded, surveying Derek again, using his sleuthing skills to fish out Derek's motive as he poured two liberal amounts into the glasses. He passed one to Derek who took it with a polite nod.

"So what did you come here to talk to me about?" The Sherriff inquired take a long sip of his drink.

"I wanted to ask you if you could place a curfew on Beacon Hills."

The Sherriff looked at him waiting for him to give a reason. Derek was silent.

"Why." The Sherriff finally spoke looking directly into Derek's eyes.

'Because there are going to be people coming into town that want to kill me and become alpha' Derek wanted to say out loud.

"There have just been a few occurrences of strange people in town that's all. I think for the safety of the town we should just keep everyone in doors after dark." Derek stated instead.

"Strange people." The Sherriff echoed, sounding every bit of an interrogator that he was.

"Yes sir."

"Well since you've given me no real reason, the best I can do is put out more patrol cars after 9pm." The Sherriff rationalized, finishing off his drink.

Derek nodded, it was better than nothing. They wouldn't attack humans outright. Yet.

"You know my father was a Sherriff, and his father before him." The Sherriff topped off Derek's glass and then poured himself another.

"I come from a long line of law enforcement officials." He looked at Derek expectantly until Derek took a long draw, actually glad that the liquor relaxed his strained nerves.

"So what I'm saying is." The Sherriff shifted.

"Stiles isn't going to be a Sherriff. That's a given. What do you think about trying out your hand as a deputy?"

Derek stopped mid sip.

"Oh come on." The Sherriff continued, observing Derek's startled expression.

"At least think about it. You seem to have a want to keep some sort of order, keep those you love safe."

The Sherriff rolled the empty glass in his hands. The two had finished off more than half the bottle. Derek could feel the warmth spreading through his body. It was strong stuff. Stiles was right, the man was drinking himself into a coma.

"Uh sir. Have you had breakfast yet?" Derek asked politely.

The Sherriff nodded.

"I had a cup of coffee earlier. I'll be fine."

"Let me" Derek gestured. He stood and went to the fridge and after a quick glance at its contents, he pulled out a package of bacon and a carton of eggs. He grabbed a half a loaf of bread and popped it into the toaster while the eggs and bacon fried cheerfully in a skillet.

He didn't know exactly why he felt that he needed to make the Sherriff breakfast, but it felt right. He went on instinct.

The toast popped and Derek ladled the contents of the skillet onto two plates.

He placed three slices of toast on the sheriff's plate and a single slice onto his.

He placed the food in front of the Sherriff, who had not made any objection to Derek invading his kitchen uninvited.

"Thank you" the Sherriff spoke slowly, both surprised and grateful for Derek's actions.

Derek nodded.

The two ate in respective silence.

The Sherriff finally spoke.

"So."

Derek met the Sherriff's penetrating gaze. He spoke quietly.

"Stiles is safe."

The Sherriff let out a sigh, as if to say, 'kids these days.'

"You know. When you get into law enforcement, they give your loved ones a seminar in how to mentally deal with having your spouse being in the line of fire."

He stabbed his plate with his fork.

"Too bad they don't train us on how to deal with losses of our own."

Derek nodded.

The two continued eating in silence.

"Thanks for cooking" the sheriff spoke quietly raising his once forgotten coffee cup.

"No problem sir. Thank you for taking to time to talk with me."

The Sherriff waved him off.

"You're always welcome if you know how to make eggs like these."

Allison and Scott stepped out of Allison's SUV and peered at the single light shining from the Hale house.

"What did Derek want?" Allison asked pensively, her breath curling in the night air.

"I dunno, pack business."

"Should I be here?" Allison questioned

"Yeah, he asked me to bring you." Scott mumbled a concerned look on his face.

Allison laced her fingers through Scott's with a reassuring squeeze. Scott smiled back at her.

Derek was standing in the living room of the ruined Hale house waiting. Lydia and Jackson were there alongside three new recruits, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, all of them looking just as on edge as Jackson did.

When the pair approached the group, Derek nodded.

"Alright everyone's here."

"So what's the deal captain H." Erica quipped, flipping her hair looking bored out of her mind.

"Derek do we still need to do these stupid patrols? Didn't you defeat the last rogue?" Lydia added on, her voice sounding irritated.

Derek nodded.

"There's an issue." Derek started looking at his pack.

"What happened now?" Scott asked sharply, his voice giving away the fear he was already feeling.

"The rogues aren't abiding by the covenant."

"Yeah, maybe that's why they're called rogues?" Lydia stated plainly.

Derek shot her a death glare. She looked away in submission.

"Werelaw is absolute" Derek responded, though the worried look on his face told otherwise.

"If they are overturning the very law that binds packs together, then we all need to be ready for a fight."

Scott swallowed nervously.

"It makes sense" Lydia added.

"If a pack can't defend itself against a couple of rogues, it's not going to be considered a pack by werelaw is it?" Lydia finished, her words penetrating the atmosphere.

Derek looked past her, ignoring the significance of her words.

"Training starts tomorrow. No one is exempt." Derek finished.

"But tomorrow's the game against Wood Bridge!" Jackson blurted out.

"If you want Beacon Hills to remain your home, you're going to have to make sacrifices!" Derek snapped.

"They're getting stronger aren't they?" Erica whispered, a statement more than a question.

"All of you keep your eyes and ears open." Derek finished.

"What about the Argents?" Scott asked as Allison looked on, her features etched with concern.

"For now we keep them out of this. Except you Allison. I need you to gather information about pack movements and let us know of anything abnormal."

Allison nodded.

The pack dispersed leaving Derek alone in the darkness.

Derek rubbed his temples slowly trying to rid himself of the headache that was building, ever since the last fight, his wounds had continued to heal but his muscles felt painfully stiff.

His phone rang alarmingly loud making his pulse quicken on instinct. An unknown number was calling. He picked up expecting the worst.

"Is this Derek Hale's phone?" An official sounding voice asked.

"Yes. Sir." Derek answered instantly recognizing who it was.

"Good evening Derek" the Sherriff's voice spoke through the phone.

"Good evening Sherriff." Derek replied

"First, call me Mr. Stilinksi for now."

"Second, I need you to meet me at O'Malley's at 11. I need to repay you for breakfast the other day."

"No, it's no problem sir." Derek countered completely flustered. Why was the Sherriff wanting to have dinner with him of all people?

"Meet me at O'Malley's at 11. He repeated.

" Or I can send over a police cruiser to come pick you up. Your choice." The Sherriff retorted with an air of finality that meant he was not taking no for an answer. The Sherriff hung up as abruptly as he had picked up leaving Derek with his mouth open like a goldfish for the second time.

Derek finds the Sherriff tucked into a booth in the darkened bar, rather fitting for an off duty police officer with a penchant for drinking in his off hours.

Sherriff Stilinksi held out his hand, Derek took it as they shook.

"Good to see you Derek."

"You too" Derek responded politely, on his best behavior.

The Sherriff ordered another round of drinks and turned his attention to a football game that was playing.

The waitress arrived with two beer glasses filled with a dark looking liquid.

Derek took a tentative sip. He made a face.

The Sherriff laughed.

"You're still a kid. It's a dark German lager. It's called Doppelbock. You'll start liking it when you drink it more often. It's an old man drink."

Derek smiled weakly. He was in fact, in his early thirties.

"Not in age, but then again, age doesn't really say much about maturity does it?" The Sherriff supplied slowly, his eyes reminiscing fond memories from the past.

"Stiles wet the bed till he was fifteen."

Derek bit his lip. The Sherriff definitely had a head start on him.

"Yeah. Had to buy plastic sheets. Nightmares." The Sherriff contemplated reverently.

Derek swallowed the rest of his beer dutifully, trying to catch up to the Sherriff's level of inebriety. He knew all about nightmares.

The Sherriff was a good guy. Derek realized how comfortable he could be around him. The Sherriff was calm and had an easy energy. he seemed like he was a great father. Derek found himself smiling and adding his own observations to the conversation.

And Derek talked, not about everything, but things that he had never discussed with others. The Sherriff didn't judge and seemed interested in all the things that came out of Derek's mouth. He offered advice and was pretty funny despite having the appearance of a law enforcement official. Even after the false arrest and his previous run-ins with the law, Derek felt like the Sherriff understood. It was strange and awesome at the same time. Yeah. Awesome.

And from that late night drinking session grew some sort of odd tradition between the pair. In between brutal training sessions and information gathering sessions with Allison, the Sherriff and Derek shared late night drinks and meals. The Sherriff would often mention Stiles in some capacity, missing him and wishing he was there to join in on the conversation like a hyperactive chipmunk, but Derek felt that deep down the Sherriff was enjoying his company as much as he was enjoying the Sherriff's. Being familiar enough not to be complete strangers and yet not so familiar to the point where they knew each other's past histories down to the saddest details made it safe somehow.

One particular night, they had both packed it in, finishing off two cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey and were making good headway with shots of bourbon of all things, till the empty glass container rolled carelessly around the coffee table. Derek's vision was swimming but the Sherriff on the other hand was looking calm and pleasant, his heart beat mellowed and his breathing slow, as is if he was sleeping with his eyes open. The two had traversed several conversations with clipped starts and beginnings, covering shop talk with most of the in between babble cut out, since only the important parts needed to be expressed out loud. Just the way Derek liked it.

"Stiles came back to get his essentials. He's found an apartment near his new job." The Sherriff murmured suddenly. His tone quiet and a little sad.

"This will always be his home though." He gestured to the walls.

Derek nodded slowly.

'I should go." Derek finished.

"You sure? It's only, wow." The Sherriff checked his watch.

"It's four in the morning." He announced quietly in surprise.

Derek stepped out of the front door followed by the Sheriff who was wobbling just the slightest.

Derek got into the driver's seat and the Sherriff plunked down on the rolled down window, his breath heavy with traces of whiskey and bourbon.

"So, when are you going to." The Sherriff hiccupped.

"Going to make an honest man out of my son?" The Sherriff inquired with a touch of interrogation laced into his slurred words.

Derek stared back, sobering up so quickly it felt like no alcohol existed in his system at all, though he was desperately wanting to drive a few miles down the road and take a leak on the side of the road because his bladder was painfully full after metabolizing all the alcohol.

"Sir." Derek faltered.

"John." The Sherriff corrected with a finger.

"Oh and Derek, if you hurt him, I hurt you. Understood?" His new drinking buddy ensconced.

Derek nodded. A new headache setting in. Did the Sherriff understand that he wouldn't hurt Stiles?

The Sherriff tousled Derek's hair causing the normally coiffed style to get disheveled.

"Good night Durrick." He slurred quietly.

Derek felt more relaxed than he had in a long time, even smiling into the darkness as he headed back home.

Derek sorted through an assortment of expensive looking bottles and took out a good number from the well preserved liquor cabinet of the Hale house. Derek smirked, knowing that If Stiles was here he would lose it knowing that both he and his father were taking up drinking together. Well the Sherriff started it and Derek was merely continuing the tradition. It only seemed fair.

That night, after finishing off the majority of the alcohol in the Stilinski house, plus a case of beer the Sherriff had stashed in the fridge, Derek called it a night, the clock on the wall reading five in the morning.

The Sherriff followed him outside and gave him a wave.

"Nice night."

"It is."

The Sherriff opened the passenger's seat and sat down, buckling up.

"Let's go for a ride."

Derek looked at him, one eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Come on, I used to go riding with my friends when I was younger. Just go where the wind would take us. "

Derek nodded and started the Camaro.

It jetted out into the night.

Derek had never really driven for pleasure, often it was to think, and most of the time the purpose of driving was getting from point A to B. But as he drove with the Sherriff, he realized how much he took the simple act of driving for granted. The way the trees looked when lit up in the beams of his headlines, and how the moon served as a distant compass, guiding their journey. The smell of the night air, the sounds of the quiet forests, the lights reappearing in sleepy houses as people awoke to get ready for their everyday, ordinary lives.

Derek's reverie was broken by one simple question.

"Have you and Stiles had relations?"

Derek almost lost control of the vehicle, swerving narrowly to miss a large tree.

"Sir? "

"Done it, made love, intercourse." The Sherriff listed pertinently.

"No. Sir. John." Derek shook his head, glad that it was dark because the tips of his ears were burning bright red.

The Sherriff nodded.

"Why not?"

Derek's eyebrows took residence at his hairline, he swallowed hard wondering if he could jump out of the window of his moving car.

"Sir. "

The Sherriff rolled his eyes.

"You're both of age." The Sherriff gestured, like he was a cool kid asking a nerdy kid why they wore glasses.

"We just. The timing wasn't right." Derek responded slowly.

"So when will it be the right time?" The Sherriff inquired.

Derek exhaled; the mood in the car had gotten uncomfortably serious.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter now."

"Does it matter to Stiles?" The Sherriff prodded.

Derek's mouth twitched but he remained silent, his eyes on the road.

"Dude." The Sherriff continued, one eyebrow cocked in judgment the words resounding in both humor and placement.

"You don't have to go through life like that Derek. It makes it more powerful when you have someone to fight for."

"Is that why you're alone?" Derek responded sharply.

He felt terrible as soon as the words left his lips. He wanted to turn back the hands of time, even for a second to stop himself for saying something so unbelievably hurtful. What a horrible knee jerk reaction.

"John. Sir. I'm sorry I didn't mean." Derek stammered, his knuckles turning white against the steering wheel.

The Sherriff held up his hand.

'It's alright."

"No. I'm. I didn't mean it like that." Derek continued feeling like he was sinking into a pit of his own shame.

Suddenly, a flash of fur jumped out in front of the car and bounded out into the darkness. Derek slammed on the brakes.

"What was that? A deer? Or a Bear?" the Sherriff yelled in surprise.

Derek knew it wasn't a deer or a bear. He recognized the sneakers the creature was wearing when it had ran into the forest.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

**And there it is, another chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying the story. Thoughts, reviews, feedback are greatly appreciated! **


	7. Chapter 7

CH 7

Notes: another chapter up! Sorry for the delay.

Derek turned sharply and made his way back towards the Stilinksi house at a lightning speed.

"Is everything alright? It was just a deer Derek." The Sherriff offered in a worried voice.

"Yes I need to get home. It's late" Derek offered, though judging from the Sherriff's face, he wasn't buying it.

Three minutes later Derek was pulling into the driveway of the sheriff's house.

"Mr. Stiiniski I need to go." Derek gritted out urgently.

The Sherriff exited the car and stood next to it, he lowered himself to the passenger side window and fixed the alpha with a look.

"When I see you again. _And that will be very soon_. You and I are going to sit down and have a serious talk. Got it?" The older man stated, demandingly, eyeing Derek's white knuckles practically bending the steering wheel out of shape.

"Yes sir." Derek nodded staring into the darkness.

"Good night. Be safe." The Sherriff turned and walked inside.

Derek floored it. He blasted into the night at full speed. He hoped Scott remembered his training.

The Camaro sped through the night like a bullet, headlights dimmed, Derek's primal senses taking over. He was almost a mile away from his house when Scott's scent started intensifying through the night air, accompanied by a foreign scent that increased in waves. He made a sharp turn onto the abandoned road slowing down and moving his foot to the accelerator pedal again, when sirens bleared through the night silence. Derek grit his teeth. The sheriff had kept his word about the patrols, and given his track record, Derek's plans were going to crash and burn again.

Derek thought about jumping out of the window and sacrificing his car, which would allow him to get to Scott and whatever he was running after. But fleeing the police would just complicate things more. He sighed, hoping that Scott and whoever else he had notified would deal with the problem as he slowed the car down and pulled over to the side of the road. He shuffled through his glove box and took out his license and registration.

A gruff looking policeman with a severe beer belly approached the car, the beam of a flashlight stunning his eyes. Derek rolled down the window.

"Good evening officer. " Derek placated quietly.

"Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer growled, aiming the flashlight directly into his eyes, making him blink painfully.

"No sir."

"License and Registration." The officer demanded into the night sky, as if Derek was too disgusting to even look at.

A second officer approached the car, flashing his own flashlight into the back seat of the car.

Well well. If it isn't the infamous Derek Hale." The officer sneered at his partner showing the license card with Derek's picture scowling back.

"Heading home after a night of debauchery are we?" The officer taunted derisively.

"No officer. I remembered I left the stove on." Derek supplied hoping the flimsy lie would give him some credence.

The second officer laughed loudly.

"I'd think you of all people would be extra careful with things that caught on fire."

The first officer threw the license back onto Derek's lap.

"Get out of the car."

"Officer? " Derek asked, his stomach constricting.

"Did he stutter!" the second officer barked flashing the beam of light into Derek's face.

Derek slowly stood against his car.

"Spread your legs and put your hands against the car. Spread out." The officer commanded.

Derek complied, his fear building. He hoped Scott would-be alright.

The officer dragged him away from the side of the Camaro and then slammed Derek against the hood of his car, his face bouncing against the cold metal.

"Have you been drinking Mr. Hale?"

"No. no I haven't" Derek replied, keeping his heart rate slow.

"Wrong answer."

"We don't like people who lie." The second officer conceded.

"I can smell alcohol on his breath. Cuff him" the officer commanded his partner.

"A little bit more time behind bars will help him with his memory." The first officer finished.

"The sheriffs going to be mighty glad that we caught someone with such questionability don't you think?" He asked his partner.

The two laughed. The second officer shoved him into the back of the police cruiser and slammed the door shut.

Derek was all out of luck.

Scott charged through the forest fur already growing through his pores. He bent down on all fours and followed the intruder. An intruder who had the guts to spy on him and Allison as they made out in his bedroom. A silver flash next to him growled out in anger.

"Where's Derek?" Jackson whispered angrily.

"I don't know, I tried calling him." Scott responded.

"He probably doesn't even know how to check voicemail." Jackson lamented.

The two stopped in their tracks.

A wolf, its back covered in blood, Scott's handiwork, turned to them.

"What are you doing here?" Scott growled. "This is our territory."

"Just checking out the view" The wolf responded coolly

Jackson slowly maneuvered himself so the two were equidistant from the lone wolf.

"You nasty little perv." Jackson sneered nastily.

The wolf took a step back and tossed something silver in front of him A cloud of dust permeated the air as soon as the pellet hit the ground catching the two by surprise. Scott fell to his knees coughing loudly.

"Damn it!" Jackson choked out.

The two ran in the opposite direction until the smoke cleared.

"I cant. I cant smell anything!" Scott groaned out, shaking his head.

"We lost the bastard." Jackson replied coldly, rubbing his eyes.

The wolf ran into the night, looking back at the small town of Beacon Hills in the distance.

The ring of a cell phone alerted him. He answered.

"Yes. He's not here. I'm heading back."

XXXX

Derek paced back and forth in the tiny jail cell gritting his teeth., his cell phone blinked worriedly on the counter outside .

The two officers sat chatting drinking coffee out of paper cups.

"I get one phone call." Derek tried.

The two laughed at each other.

"No go compadre. The Sherriff wants to question every unsavory character that we bring in during our night patrols."

The two sneered at him and turned back to whatever they were watching online.

Derek opened his eyes when he felt the first rays of sunlight hit his face. It had only been an hour and yet it felt like each minute had been an eternity. The sound of the key turning in a lock forced Derek to look at the rails to see the Sherriff with a peculiar look on his face opening the cell.

"Should I be surprised to see you in here?" The Sherriff asked quietly, so only Derek could hear.

"This doesn't look good." Derek supplied quietly.

"Nope." The sheriff jerked his head in agreement.

"What do they have you in for?"

"Drunk driving. "

"Did they give you a breathalyzer? " The Sherriff asked, his features looking somewhat guilty.

Derek shook his head, his pulse rising in hope.

"So that means we have no way of verifying that you were driving drunk. Great." The Sherriff lamented, though a small smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

"Got some winners from the academy this time." He continued sliding the rail Sherriff took out a ticket pad and wrote down a few scribbles before handing it over to Derek.

"Sign here and pay the speeding fine by thirty days."

Derek signed quickly and handed it back to the Sherriff. He tore off a copy of the slip and handed it to him.

He then took out a pair of handcuffs and placed them over his wrists. Derek looked at him, his face asking, 'what's this for?'.

"Lets go Hale." The Sherriff handed back his affects.

The Sherriff walked him silently to the front of the station and placed him in the back seat, shutting the door gently after him. Once inside Derek hurriedly dialed Scotts number.

"Derek, where are you?" Scotts worried voice echoed through the receiver.

"Are you ok? What happened?" Derek demanded over Scott's worried voice.

"Yeah. No ones hurt. We lost one of them though."

"That's fine." Derek cut off the dead space or any further explanation.

"Just stay put and don't go near my house." He finished well aware that the Sherriff could hear every word he uttered.

Derek turned he phone off before Scott could reply or even say bye. Regardless Derek thought, the Sherriff was about to find out a whole lot of what Derek did and he had to strategize to keep as much away from him as possible. Not to be secretive, but rather protect his newly found drinking buddy.

As the Sherriff drove, Derek looked out at the sleeping town, the morning traffic light compared to that of a bustling city's. Truly a perfect place to house those with secrets. A perfect place to call home.

The Sherriff pulled into the Stilinksi driveway and opened the door so Derek could step out of car.

He escorted Derek inside and sat him down at the table.

"Everything ok?" He asked redundantly, knowing very well that Derek was subconsciously devising ways to break free and run to find the members of his pack.

"For now." Derek conceded quietly.

The Sherriff started a coffee maker in the kitchen that chugged to a start and began dripping a dark liquid into the glass receptacle. He sat down leveling with Derek.

"So now talk."

Derek frowned slightly. This was the moment of truth.

"Derek' the Sherriff insisted his voice stern but gentle.

He nodded slowly.

" I'm a werewolf." Derek stated slowly. He felt like a weight had been lifted off him. It felt good. The coffee maker beeped in the deafening silence.

"I'm really disappointed in you." The Sherriff responded with a sigh.

"Mr Stilinksi." Derek pleaded after him.

He watched as the Sherriff walked into the kitchen and filled two mugs.

"Please."

The Sherriff fished into his pocket and pulled out a key. He tossed it on the table avoiding his eyes.

"If something else happens and you find yourself in trouble with the law, I won't step in to help. "

Something clicked in Derek. He shifted without thinking. The cuffs shuddered and snapped open against his wrists as his blood began to boil. He slowly descended onto all fours staring back at the Sherriff.

"Just stay out of trouble. I" The Sherriff turned around in mid sentence.

The Sherriff dropped the coffee mugs, which promptly shattered on the kitchen floor with splashes of hot black liquid. The older man passed out immediately afterwards.

XXXXXXXX

The Sherriff opened his eyes to find Derek peering down at him in human form, his eyes filled with worry.

"Mr. Stilinksi? Are you ok?" The alpha asked urgently.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I think."

"Do you remember what I. We were talking about?"

"Yeah." The Sherriff responded.

"About me being a werewolf?" Derek continued slowly.

"That wasn't a dream?" The Sherriff replied in a queasy manner, rubbing his head. Derek shook his head slowly. he helped the Sherriff to his feet, making sure he was steady on his feet.

"I need to get back to the station." The Sherriff lamented looking at the kitchen clock.

He noticed the food laid out on the table.

"You've been cooking in my kitchen again."

"Yes sir." Derek responded quietly.

"Can we talk now?" Derek supplied valiantly.

The Sherriff looked at him in wonderment. He nodded.

An hour or so later the Sherriff stared at Derek, half in disbelief.

"So you are a werewolf. And Scott, my son's best friend since grade school is also a werewolf. You're an alpha and there are others like you living in Beacon Hills. "He repeated slowly.

Derek nodded.

"And other alphas are challenging you for their chance to stake their claim in Beacon Hills. The Sherriff finished in a bewildered manner. "And you want law enforcement to stay out of the way."

Derek frowned but kept gaze with a nod.

"Well damn.' The Sherriff mumbled looking down at his empty plate.

"Are you going to be able to handle this?" The Sherriff asked slowly.

The alpha nodded.

"I'm amazed Stiles was able to keep this a secret for so long. "

Derek's pulse stirred. With all the craziness of the past few weeks, he had barely thought of him. A rush of emotions swept through his system. He sighed, relaxing himself.

Stiles was safe.

"I understand." The Sherriff spoke quietly.

"But Derek, if one body shows up. Or someone sees something. Supernatural or otherwise, the police get involved. Understand?"

Derek nodded without argument. It would be useless to talk back anyway. The Sherriff stood and took the empty plates off the table.

"I expect you here on Friday. We're having steaks." The sheriff instructed, putting the dirty dishes into the sink.

"Yes sir. What would you like me to bring?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something" the Sherriff finished leading Derek to the front door. He took a card out of his wallet.

"Go by this address and pick up your car.' He motioned getting into his cruiser.

"Oh and Derek?"

"Yes Sir' Derek met the Sherriff's gaze.

"Be careful alright?"

"Yes sir." Derek replied with a stiff smile.

xxxxxx

Derek called Scott as soon as he was back in his car.

"Where are you?"

"Derek where have you been?" Scott responded, worry traced in his voice.

"Meet me at my house in an hour" Derek silenced his beta with his direction.

"Ok fine. I'll tell Jackson."

Derek drove, well under the speed limit back to his house. It looked more desolate than he last remembered it. He took a moment to let his werewolf senses to kick in. Nothing had changed in the vicinity, he turned and slowly headed inside.

He stripped off his clothes, ignoring the gashes on the walls and the holes missing from the walls and floors. He bypassed the destroyed interior of his abode and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and let the water sooth his tired muscles. He could feel another headache coming on and wondered if it was a sign of him growing older. His mind wandered, as it often did, to Stiles. The thought of him besides him as he showered, the hot water warming his skin, the water falling on his face and lips. Derek's hands imaged themselves sliding down Stiles' waist and resting on his hips as he drew him closer. Derek's body couldn't help but respond.

"Stiles" he groaned softly, his eyes closed, delving deeper into his wet fantasy.

Derek stepped out of the shower, relaxed, his heart rate slowly coming back down to normal as he heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

He got dressed silently and opened the door to find a very worried looking Scott and an irritated looking Jackson leaning against his Porsche.

"Where the hell were you?' Jackson started.

"I was in jail" Derek responded meeting them.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Scott supplied.

"I don't know McCall, last time I checked they don't let you use a cell phone while you're in handcuffs." He gritted out in irritation.

"Show me" he commanded, walking into the woods.

His betas stared at each other before following.

XXXX

"I still cant smell properly " Scott whined as the three searched the area. Derek smelled something particular and metallic smelling on a clump of bushes and moved the fronds of the plant aside with his foot, showing a small patch of white powder.

"Get Allison down here and take a sample. Ask her to find out where it's from." He instructed firmly.

"Stiles would be able to get it done in no time." Jackson stated quickly.

"No." Derek flat-lined.

"I don't want to keep bringing Allison into this." Scott affirmed indignantly.

"She's a hunter. I'd say she's pretty well into this McCall." Derek retorted with a shake of his head.

He left the two.

"Where are you going now?' Scott called after him.

"To the store. I haven't eaten since last night. " Derek replied offhandedly.

The two watched him leave.

"Screw this." Scott murmured taking out his cell phone.

"He's going to kill you" Jackson spoke quietly, shaking his head.

"Whatever." Scott mumbled to himself typing a text with Stiles' name in the recipient line.

TO BE CONTINUED…..


	8. Chapter 8

CH8

Notes: Sorry for the delay, life has been intense! Hope you enjoy!

Stiles parked in the shade of a large tree, peering at the sunny house with its small flower garden. As his shoes crunched against the sandy walkway he saw Syd laying against a small maple tree, sketching contently while Geraldine, wearing a large sun hat watered a flower bed with a hose that was on such low pressure, the water flowed out in a trickle.

"Guess who's got an interview?" Stiles called out with a wave.

"This guy!"

"Well congratulations" Geraldine smiled, turning off the hose and giving Stiles a gentle hug. He walked to Syd and dropped to his knees so he could give him a fist bump.

"Sit over there with G so I can finish this sketch" Syd ushered, pointing to a sunny spot in front of the flower beds. Stiles obliged, plopping down in front of a flower bed filled with different colored marigolds as Geraldine slowly lowered herself onto the plush grass opposite him.

"So, you must be excited" Geraldine started, before turning to Syd at a glacial speed with "Sun hat on or off?"

"Off. " Syd responded quickly, fully invested in his sketch.

Geraldine gently removed the hat from her head and laid it next to her, her auburn hair falling in a cascade around her. Stiles was reminded by how fascinated he had been with Lydia's hair since he first saw her in the second grade, and how she twirled it like her own lion's mane, both ferocious and beautiful. Geraldine's was just as fascinating. Stiles' however, had realized quickly that he was way more into brunettes than red heads anyway.

"So what's the job?" Geraldine continued smiling at him from under her tresses.

"Junior Development Associate" Stiles preened.

"Wow that sounds interesting." Geraldine smiled.

"Yeah, it's kind of a big deal, I assist the company's software development group in testing and debugging their products before they hit the shelves. I also get the chance to write code myself for minor fixes and stuff." Stiles explained in a blur of words.

Geraldine nodded.

"I have no idea what that means."

Stiles smiled then responded with:

"So where is the next chapter G? I'm still waiting to read what happens to Mildred the bear."

Geraldine blushed

"I've been busy with the move and all. You know."

Syd and Geraldine had opted to move into their own place in the outskirts of Beacon Hills after finishing their respective contracts with the sanitarium, with plenty of Stiles' encouragement. Well Stiles had convinced them that, as two functioning adults with special considerations, they could still manage to live on their own and build a life together outside of padded walls and white linoleum floors. Syd had reluctantly agreed now that his new medication was working with him and not against him and Geraldine had jumped at the chance since she had always wanted to live on her own and away from the depressing white interiors of the sanitarium walls.

"So what have you two been up to?" Stiles asked with a dirty smirk.

"Well we've been getting people in to Syd and Geraldine proof the house" Geraldine responded missing Stiles' innuendo

Geraldine and Syd's families had helped the two put in easy open locks for the doors and a lowered bed so Syd didn't fall out at night and hurt himself. They had also added special items to the kitchen so Geraldine could use it, essentially keeping the two alive by cooking once in a while without overdosing on grease and salt from eating take out every other day.

"So have you two christened the new place?" Stiles prodded.

"Christened?" Geraldine replied with a confused look on her face.

"Well you know when a guy really likes a girl, or a guy really likes a guy, or a girl really likes a girl, there's usually a…"

"Oh my gosh!" Geraldine blushed finally catching his drift.

Stiles smirked and directed his gaze at her. She paused for a moment and then replied with.

"Well, we've done stuff." She stated evasively, chewing on her bottom lip.

Stiles started laughing and Geraldine followed.

"Hey, what's going on over there?" Syd inquired.

Geraldine stood slowly and smiled.

"I'm going inside to get the lemonade" She beckoned to Stiles to follow her.

Once inside the cozy house that was filled with light and decorated sparingly but warmly, Geraldine opened the kitchen fridge so Stiles could take a rather heavy pitcher of lemonade out of it. She spoke seriously.

"Stiles are you sure about this job?"

"Huh?" Stiles managed, immersed in placing the pitcher on a counter.

"I mean don't you want to stay in beacon hills, with your dad and your friends?"

"I guess so, but last time I checked there aren't any jobs out here for software engineers." Stiles replied with a shrug.

"That is true" Geraldine acquiesced.

"Why, is there something going on?" Stiles inquired slowly. "Some vision you're seeing?"

"I don't have visions silly. Just see things in dreams."

"Yeah, those are vision G. Did you see this house in a dream?" Stiles asked to which Geraldine nodded. Stiles nodded back, his eyebrows raised in awe.

Stiles' gaze fell upon a small vase filled with bright crimson flowers.

"Wow, those are pretty." He pointed.

"Aren't they? I picked them outside, behind the back of the house."

"Uh no. I've lived here all my life and flowers like that don't grow in beacon hills."

"Ah yes. I found them near the woods." Geraldine asserted gently.

"Well anyway, have you seen anything about me in the future?" Stiles ventured, taking a cup from Geraldine and pouring lemonade into it.

Geraldine frowned as she took the cup.

"What did you see?" Stiles asked quietly his own tone adjusting at the change in her visage.

"Nothing good. Darkness. And someone calling your name over and over again."

"Is that all?" Stiles insisted, suddenly very interested in her observations, a slight chill of panic running through his veins. His mind whirred as it tried to figure out whose voice it could be.

Geraldine nodded.

"I haven't seen anything else. I wake up before it gets any clearer."

"Are you sure you're not a witch?" Stiles asked slowly.

"Oh gosh, I hope not" Geraldine recused with a frown.

'Yeah, you might want to investigate your family tree. Your family name might pop up in the Salem witch trials." Stiles continued with an odd look.

"No thanks." Geraldine affirmed. "Anyway, do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I would love to, but dad wants me to have dinner with him tonight." Geraldine nodded. "It's just an interview G. Nothing serious."

Geraldine smiled

"You're totally right. Good luck, I know you'll be awesome Stiles."

"Ha thanks."

XXXXXXX

Stiles couldn't help tapping his thumbs against his laptop as he watched a silly action flick, nodding as the main character jumped out of a building before it exploded. He was almost done with it since he had fast forwarded all of the boring scenes with talking and romance, just watching it for all the bright colors. He turned to see the person sitting next to him, a middle aged man in a business suit who had his in-flight headphones tightly settled into his ears, afraid that Stiles would try and instigate another conversation with him on the changes in air travel and boarding protocols.

The flight from Beacon Hills to Seattle wasn't long, but it didn't stop Stiles' nerves from getting to him. He stared out the slit of window wondering what it would be like at TriForm Software. He tried to push the conversation with his father out of his mind, one where the Sherriff had subtly or not so subtly hinted at him finding work in Beacon Hills.

Stiles checked into his hotel room after a short cab ride later and called his dad. He tried Scott but it went to voicemail, which meant that he was with Allison or was busy doing pack stuff. Stiles called down to the concierge and asked for a wakeup call and a cab to take him to TriForm Software's headquarters the next morning. Alone in what seemed an eternity, he lay awake for hours trying not to think and stop his dad's words ringing in his ears, the not so subtle 'Derek seems like a nice guy' tossed out like a passing statement had crawled under his skin. He eventually dozed off a few hours before day break.

XXXXXXX

"Genim?" A secretary called out from behind the receptionist's desk.

"Here, and its Stiles." Stiles stood up wearing his interview suit and a tie patterned with tiny R2D2's.

"This way" the secretary beckoned with a professional smile.

Stiles was led to a plush conference room and sat in a chair near the entrance waiting for the process to start. He opened up his sleek leather binder where his resume and talking points were stored and began rehearsing his answers and looking over his experience when he heard the door knob clicking open. A blond haired man with a matching goatee that looked dapper as opposed to goofy entered with a smile.

"Morning. Lance Stelson, head of Development" the man introduced himself with a handshake.

"Stiles." He responded quickly.

Over the next forty or so minutes Stiles learned a lot more about the company and his role in the development department if he were to be hired. Stiles was asked some technical questions that he felt lucky to have reviewed prior to flying out and finally ended up with talking about what he liked to do in his spare time as well as general talking points from his resume.

"Well let me tell you, you've been the best candidate so far." Lance stated with an acknowledging smile. "We have a few more candidates to power through and you should have an answer by next week."

"Great! Thank you so much for meeting with me." Stiles beamed gratefully.

"No thank you. And I love the tie by the way." Lance pointed with a smile.

He led Stiles to the lobby and headed back to the fourth floor of the expansive compound.

Lance walked into a large office and closed the door. He clicked on a computer mouse and a large computer screen flickered on, throwing blue light onto his features. Lance watched a surveillance camera following Stiles as he talked on his cell phone outside.

A loud knock diverted him, he looked up to find a dark brown haired man step in carrying a stack of papers. A small band-aid above his right eyebrow looked out of place his otherwise immaculate appearance.

He placed them on the impressive looking desk and stood next to Lance as Stiles finally got into a cab and drove away.

"So what do you think?"

"He's actually pretty bright. Could become an asset with a little bit of professional experience."

The other man laughed roughly as he rubbed his shoulder and rolled his neck.

"Any other leads?" Lance inquired slowly, switching to a spreadsheet filled with numbers.

The man shook his head.

"Is it still tender?" Lance spoke, derision soaked into every word.

"I'll be fine" the other man gritted angrily. "The other scout will return soon."

"Let's hope he has better luck. He should be able to find one measly human." Lance finished, glaring at the man with no interest in continuing the conversation.

XXXXXXX

Stiles sipped a coffee as the phone connected. "Hey Daddy-o"

"How did it go son?" The sheriff's voice filtered through the phone as Stiles watched two grunge types drink java out of large coffee cups.

"It was awesome. I got a good feeling about this." Stiles spoke, swirling the black liquid in his cup.

"Well that's great." The Sherriff's voice stated in an elated manner. "When are you coming back? I'll make sure to pick you up from the airport."

"Tomorrow night" Stiles responded. "What do you want from Seattle? Some good coffee?"

"So what do they do out at Triform Software?" His father inquired patiently, trying to keep his son on topic.

"Oh it's awesome dad, they create surveillance systems and detection networks for large corporations and agricultural operations."

"In English?" The Sherriff retorted matter-of-factly.

"Basically security systems for companies and farming communities. They do all the software and programming for the systems. Tell them when to turn on and off and when to alarm."

"Ah I see." The Sherriff sounded satisfied.

"So what do you want, Java, Sumatran, or Americano?" Stiles continued with a smirk finishing off his cup.

XXXXXXX

Mark ran to his car, started it, and gunned the engine hard. The reflection in the rearview mirror showed him what he looked like now, bloodshot eyes with large bags and unkempt hair. One large scar ran across his forehead like an angry snake, but that was the least of his worries. He had on a thick hoodie like the ones Stiles always used to wear to class, which he hoped covered his appearance. He drove rapidly through the night without his head lights on. He had barely any time to survey the upturned hotel room he had been crashing in under a false name before immediately exited out of the window when he heard footsteps approaching. It had been going on for three months now. He was on the run from something bad. Someone or something wanted to hurt him.

Mark merged onto the freeway and relaxed slightly, pushing the old station wagon to 90 mph. He drove like a mad man, as far away as he could get the better.

Deep into the night Mark could feel his body relaxing even more, his foot slowly leaning off the accelerator pedal and bringing the car to a cruising speed of 70mph.

He blinked trying to keep himself awake, satisfied that he had survived another night on the run.

Suddenly, something landed on the roof of the station wagon with a loud bang as the metal gave way, causing the interior of the car to sag down. Adrenaline pumped through Mark's veins, making his heart jump in his chest. A moment later a brown figure leaped over the front of the vehicle causing Mark to swerve away in panic. The car toppled off the deserted freeway into the grassy embankment next to it.

Mark punched the door open and did his best to run.

He had made it a few feet from the wreckage before a large, clawed hand grabbed his shoulder and pinned him to the ground with a sickening thud.

"Please. I don't have anything. Don't kill me." Mark babbled feeling the hand push more pressure onto his back, knife like claws dipping into his skin, drawing up fresh blood.

"You've been pretty good at getting away." A voice growled behind his ear, sending chills down his spine.

"What do you want? I don't have any money." Mark asked weakly, fearing death.

"I'll ask the questions and you answer them." the voice behind him rasped.

XXXXXXX

Geraldine lay in bed with Syd's arms firmly holding her against him as the two slept. Her breathing hitched as she had the dream again. She was in a forest at night, the night sky lit only by a sliver of moon. As she moved forward she saw Stiles, lying face down on something, a large pool of some dark looking liquid surrounding him. As she moved forward to help him she heard a voice yell out Stiles' name, over, and over again.

Geraldine opened her eyes, realizing where she was. She pushed herself up and wiped the sweat off her brow.

"What's going on?" Syd inquired groggily.

"I don't know" Geraldine whispered slowly, peering through their bedroom window and out into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Thanks for all who read this! It's getting intense!


	9. Chapter 9

And There It Is

CH9

**Note: I am so sorry for taking so long! I've been trying my hand at other forms of writing (all focused on this pairing), anyway – lets continue shall we?**

Derek could feel the heat against the side of his body like he was in the chamber of a furnace even though he was outside. Laura at 17, tossed her backpack to the ground with a minor crash before rushing towards their house as smoke billowed from a window before the roof was engulfed in red flames. He heard her scream echoing in his ears as his heart slammed against his chest. The noise of sirens blared in the distance before a red blur zoomed into the front yard and a series of firemen hurried out with hoses. He was numb. He couldn't make out words. He felt himself shutting down from the harsh light of reality.

A hand grabbed his shoulder as he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey are you two alright?" Derek turned to see the Sherriff, who was at that time, a deputy, looking much younger with less wrinkles and more hair striding towards them, gathering him and his sister and guiding them away from the inferno.

'Was anyone inside?" Laura sobbed, running her hands through her hair, trying to steady herself.

"We don't know yet, we just got the dispatch call a few minutes ago." The Sherriff supplied in a clipped tone.

"I need to take you two back to the station while we investigate." The Sherriff continued, his voice edged with sadness.

Laura looked over at him, her face pale. She shook her head.

"NO!"

"Sweet heart please, we don't want to get hurt" The deputy insisted.

Derek stared at the ground in front of him, there he noticed the slight imprint of a high heel. Somewhere in his mind a voice yelled that it belonged to his girlfriend. His girlfriends high heel still fresh in the mud of his driveway. Derek felt something inside him break. Like a part of him being ripped out and left there in the wreckage, burning away into nothingness.

Derek turned to look at Laura's face but it was suddenly night fall. He was in the forest. He looked down at the ground hoping against hope, but he saw her, now a carcass torn in half, eyes still open laying in the fallen leaves.

He stomach lurched, wanting to rid itself of whatever contents it contained, he felt dizzied, in a haze. His body filtered through a range of emotions until he felt himself fill with the feelings of lonely isolation. Alone. The only thing existing of his life was the ashened remains of his child hood home.

Derek awoke, the cold night air bringing him back to reality.

XXXXX

Derek sat watching the game with the Sherriff, trying to ignore how nutzo the whole situation looked. He wondered how the Sherriff would take it if he knew what he was and how Stiles and he had met. Probably not well. He'd most likely be running for his life as a shot gun fired bullets his head and balls from the front door.

They'd have to explain it to him one day, he knew that. That's if he survived. He tried to push the thoughts of impending doom out of his head when the Sherriff spoke, breaking the tv filled silence.

"Were you dating Kate Argent?" he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the game.

Derek nodded and the Sherriff acknowledged it in his periphery.

"She went missing a while back. They never found her."

Derek shrugged, knowing very well that she wasn't missing. When Laura found out she had set the fire, she hunted her down and killed her. It should have been the happiest day of his life, but instead it had left him lost and without a goal. His goal now was to survive. And keep those he cared about safe. Deep down he knew he wasn't doing a good job at all.

The Sherriff stared at Derek for a moment before downing his drink and returned to the game. He also remembered that day.

He was 30 and exhausted. His wife had just given birth to Genim and the little red faced bundle was doing his best to keep them up at all hours of the night being a fussy baby.

The firefighters had a really tough time extinguishing the inferno. It was obviously not an accident. The flames were strong and powerful and the house cooked itself like a wooden oven roasting its contents to annihilation. The Sherriff's heart sank as the paramedics wheeled out the body bags in a horrifying procession and shook his head when he stepped inside of the charred house. No one should deserve that. He remembered watching the teenaged Hale children sitting in the police office waiting to learn the fate of their family. He remembered breaking the news to them and watching Derek's sister crumble and witnessing Derek's whole being go from shocked, to angry, then to hard, all in the matter of moments, becoming something fearsome. At that moment Derek Hale had stopped being a teenager and stepped into manhood.

On the other side of the couch Derek was also deep in thought. He rolled his glass in his hands, still remembered the sting in Stiles' eyes when he yelled out that he hated him. He had to make sure Stiles would leave, he couldn't explain it logically, because knowing that smart ass, he would find a way to use logic and finalize a solution that would convince even him that he could stay. Derek wouldn't lose another person he cared for. Not now, not ever. He was the controller of death; he wouldn't let it wrap its decayed, bony fingers around the necks of anyone else. He wouldn't let it still their heartbeats and slowly draw the light out of their eyes. He had promised himself after Laura.

Laura.

What would she say if she was here?

Would there be laughter in the house. Would the sheets be changed, the fridge always stocked, music playing from the radio?

Would she like Stiles?

She would have loved him.

He dry swallowed, feeling his throat open and close, lubricating itself with whatever saliva he still had in his mouth.

He opened the faucet in the kitchen and drank from it like a mangy dog till his thirst was quenched.

As he stood he felt that familiar pain shoot through his arm again. He flexed, feeling the muscles underneath his skin slide over each other, painfully readjusting when he stopped. Ever since that night in the woods. Derek took it as a sign and stopped thinking about Stiles. What was it with these Stilinksi men? It was like they made people care about them.

XXXXXX

Stiles finished up for the day and finally turned off his monitor. Today was a important day and he wasn't home to see her. After taking the train to a nearby church, Stiles sat and prayed until he felt he had put out happy thoughts through his prayers and popped $20 into the donation till.

Once outside he put his cell phone to his ear.

"Hey Daddy-O" he spoke brightly, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice

"Hey Genim."

'I was just about to head out."

"Ok. Good timing them Stiles nodded against the phone."

"Could you buy and extra bouquet for me?"

"Sure thing kiddo."

"Thanks dad. I wish I could be there."

'Yeah. Me too." The Sherriff reflected quietly.

"Well I better go Genim. It's almost dark out."

"Ok dad. I love you."

The Sherriff walked through the quiet cemetery, two bouquets of lilies overflowing in his grasp. He slowly peering at the headstones and different colored flowers laying against the various cold stone and cement plots. He reached his wife's headstone, reverently wiping off stray leaves.

He placed the flowers onto her grave and stood there in silence.

"Stiles has a new job. Out in Seattle. I know I already told you about it, but he's doing well and he's all grown up. He promised to come as soon as he gets back for thanksgiving."

"I'm doing well. Eating better. Well trying to. I made a new friend. Well I don't know if friend is the right word, but he likes Stiles." He shifted. "The Hale kid, yeah the one whose house burned down when Stiles was 6 months. He reminds me a lot of me when I was that age actually."

The Sherriff's receiver chirped out loudly. He answered.

"Sweetheart. I got to go. I'll be back soon I promise."

He leaned down and kissed the head stone. He turned and slowly walked away.

It was past midnight and the moon hung low in the sky when the crunch of dead leaves underfoot made their way to the grave plot. Derek his irises circled in red looked out into the moon. a large bouquet of white lilies grasped tightly in his hand, he bent down and placed the flowers onto the plot.

"Stiles likes white lilies, I had a feeling it was because of you." He mumbled awkwardly. "He was always busy on the 15th, I figured it out eventually."

Derek stared out at the dark cemetery, turning to go. He realized quickly that he had nowhere to go and no one to meet. He had already met with the pack a few days ago and things had been quiet for a while now.

He breathed out, watching his breath swirl in the cold air before him. "He spoke, almost in a whisper like he didn't want anyone else to hear."

"My family isn't buried here. They were cremated. I buried their ashes in the forest near our river. It was our favorite place."

He sighed looking back at the grave.

"I just wanted to let you know that he's safe. No one can hurt him where he is. I'll take care of them." Derek finished in a whisper.

He walked away slowly into the darkness, flexing his arm as the cold air worsened the pain.

XXXXX

Jackson flanked Derek as he made his way into the massive compound. A burly looking man with tattoos running down his forearms surveyed them before letting them in, once Derek's eyes had glowed red. Derek walked until he came to a large hall, that looked more like a theater than anything and sat with Jackson on the outskirts, watching the proceedings.

A silver haired man, presided over the meeting calling out for votes and discussing the actions of the alpha committee and their dedication to keeping the werewolf community underground and productive. Derek listened intently, waiting to talk with him. The committee of alphas voted on their last motion and slowly dispersed staring at the two as they walked out.

Derek finally saw the man approaching, checking his cell phone of all things.

"Alpha Westial." Derek stated firmly.

"Yes." Alpha Westial looked up from his phone.

"Alpha Hale." Derek put out his hand which the other wolf took.

Westial surveyed Derek and Jackson.

"I'm so sorry for your loss" Westial nodded to Derek. "How are you all doing in Beacon Hills."

"We are surviving" Derek supplied. "I came here to ask if we could ask for the Alpha circles protection and alliance."

Westial paused. "You know the rules Alpha Hale. It has to be seven years."

"I know, but we're only half a year away from that time point."

Westial shook his head.

"This law began at the dawn of lycan society. I cannot change it for you." He finished turning his gaze to Jackson. "No matter how young your pack is."

"What? That's bullshit." Jackson spoke out of turn his voice indignant.

Westial turned to him slowly, expanding in size with a growl. Jackson's resolve disappeared and he looked away in submission. "It is not, young man, Bullshit. A pack must survive the seven year transition in order to be acknowledged by the Alpha circle."

"It's only a few months! You don't know what we're dealing with." Jackson continued causing Derek's eyebrows to meet his hairline.

"That, young pup, Is the law! If your pack is wiped out before that time, it was not viable to begin with." Westial rumbled, his eyes bleeding red and then blue. He shook his head realizing how new of a werewolf Jackson was.

Jackson looked murderous but didn't look up. Derek's stomach was a mine field of knots.

Westial turned his focus on Derek.

"You of all people should know better. A strong pack means survival for our kind. If I were you I would ask another pack for inclusion."

Derek dropped his gaze in submission and Jackson followed suit, bending back down after attempting to see what was going on for a moment.

"Good bye Alpha Hale. I hope to see you at the next meeting." Westial strode away returning to his cell phone. The two were left in an empty auditorium.

"Derek! What the hell have you gotten us into!" Jackson started. "I didn't sign up for this bullshit!"

"Not here" Derek retorted sharply, before turning to walk away. Jackson followed shaking his head. Once outside and inside their rental car, Derek spoke slowly.

"Jackson, do you realize what you've done?" Derek spoke, his voice like thunder.

"What." Jackson asked in trepidation though he still sounded pissed off.

"You just gave away so much about our pack!" Derek roared as he started the car and sped through the country side.

Jackson grit his teeth so hard his gums bled.

"Fuck."

"Yeah." Derek seethed thinking that Scott would have been the better choice given the situation.

Derek shook his head. The pieces were moving together and the puzzle was making more and more sense.

After dropping Jackson off, he dialed Scott when his car was going through the woods.

"Yes?"

"Did you take flowers up to the cemetery"

"For what?" He could practically hear Scott thinking.

"Check the date." He heard Scott moving around on the other end. Suddenly Scotts voice came in pitched.

"Shoot! I'm heading out right now." Scott spoke in an apologetic voice.

Derek rolled his eyes "Good. We have a meeting tomorrow."

Scott tried to interject but he shut him down with a "It's not optional."

He hung up and continued driving wondering how the next few weeks would unfold. Now that so much information had been divulged, they would have to get ready to keep their pack and territory in their possession. He sighed trying to lower his heart rate. He had to think of a plan and make sure everyone knew what they were supposed to do.

He looked at his phone that he had ignored the entire day and saw a voicemail. He dialed into it and heard the Sherriff's voice through the speaker.

"Hey Derek, I just wanted to thank you for the flowers you left. See you soon."

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Notes: Things are coming to a head! Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome


	10. Updates

Hello my awesome readers!

I just want to say that I have certainly NOT forgotten about And There It Is...in fact the last chapters have been put together and I am getting everything else together for you guys!

I'm so sorry for being so absent with my updates - so many things going on!

The next few chapters will answer these burning questions -

What the eff is up with Derek's arm?

What is going on with poor Mark (He's not that great of a guy, but still!)

Who and what are Stiles' new bosses?

Syd and Geraldine...That is all :)

And many more...aaargh back to writing!

Love you all!


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